Chapter 42 The Imperial Guard of Another Quarter
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Daylight brings many labors. As I said before, I spend it among the townsfolk—learning their manners, writing letters, or bending my back to drills meant to keep the body alive. And yes, I play too: alone with cards and coins, with hoops of iron and paper balloons. When the mind grows restless, I take to shogi or hanafuda to test my wits.
The women of the neighborhood, seeing my small frame, seem to think I am still in my season of play. They bring toys and trinkets as offerings, one after another. The men, however, have no time for play, and so I practice alone, half amused, half weary.
This is the only hall for men in the southern quarter.
”Over there!”
”Got it! …Hah!”
”Damn, good reflexes.”
”This is nothing. You’re quick yourself, young master!”
I sparred with Vocal Slut-san in a game of battledore. My growth has been slow, so training the body matters greatly. Lately, I’ve treated every exercise as a sort of pilgrimage, a trial of will.
When I swing and send the feathered seed spinning, she dives like a soldier in battle, sending it back in a soft, high arc. I strike harder, hoping to make her drop it—but her reach is long and sure. Even the wildest hits, those that should be impossible, she somehow returns.
”Smash here!”
”Nice try—won’t let it fall!”
”Spin shot! The feather twists the flight!”
”Too slow!”
”Damn it… all my shots come right back to me.”
”I’m not losing yet!”
”This isn’t in my records!”
Though I’d never played much before, I found I could move as if it were badminton.
The ball—if it can be called that—is the seed of a soapberry tree, the *muku-roji*. When ripe and black, hard as a nut, the women dye bird feathers and set them in to make it fly true. They say it means “child without illness,” a charm for health.
When the shell cracks from play, you can boil the seed and eat it. It tastes like a cross between almond and edamame—soft, bitter-sweet, oddly good. I’d never known such things existed. The world hides many little wonders.
”My records… ruined again,” I muttered.
”You really like that phrase,” she laughed. “Every day, we learn something new, don’t we, young master?”
”Yeah. Playing with you is fun, Vocal Slut-san.”
She was clearly holding back, yet the simple contest filled me with a strange delight. Maybe my child’s body makes the brain flood itself with joy at the smallest struggle. Sweat dripped down my face as I chased the feather again and again.
The hall was vast, its ceiling high. The floor looked sterile—white and clean—but it yielded softly underfoot, made to spare the legs. Truly, this alien ship hides endless rooms for endless purposes.
”Phew… I need a break.”
”Water, young master.”
”Thanks.”
She handed me the flask, and we rested a moment. I soon noticed several women gathered near the wall, eyes fixed on us. They did nothing—just stood there watching.
”We’re being stared at again,” I said.
”Perhaps they wish to train with us?” she offered.
”They’re probably someone’s Imperial Guards.”
”Likely from the neighborhood. Shall I ask?”
”No need. They aren’t doing harm.”
Though the hall is meant for men, any Imperial Guard of the town may pass freely. A few other guards stood about, observing. I bowed slightly to them before resuming play.
”What a cute boy,” one murmured.
”Told you! I found him first,” another bragged.
”Lucky you. I can’t even remember the last time I spoke to my master. We used to be close, but once he hit puberty, he started avoiding me. Growing up hurts.”
”Hey, don’t say things that make it worse,” her friend sighed.
They were guards of Kujukuri Town, wearing jinbei and white uniforms like my own protector. None of their masters were nearby. It seemed they slipped away from duties to catch a glimpse of me between errands.
They reminded me of townsfolk watching an animal at a festival, finding comfort in its simple movements. Perhaps seeing a man play with his guard stirred nostalgia for them—memories of gentler days.
”Hey, you lot. Why are your blades idle?”
”Ah—Chief!”
From the doorway came a woman with authority in her step. The chatting guards stiffened at once. She must have sought these two truants.
She looked fierce—like my own Sow back home. Even though Imperial Guards often deal with men, staring too long is forbidden. For most men, it’s seen as indecent, even insulting. The Chief, not knowing I didn’t mind the stares, scolded them harshly.
The older sisters shrank, shame-faced, under her glare.
Around the hall, I spotted other guards watching with faint smiles, their eyes soft with memory. These were women of twenty, thirty years—grown, seasoned, nothing like the young girls of the school. Each wore some unique charm or ornament, hair adorned with beads or feathers, giving the place a strange beauty, like a meeting of veteran adventurers. Though, truth be told, they were also a pack of voyeurs.
I almost felt like teasing them—pretending to trip, maybe flash the hem of my pants.
”Hey, Vocal Slut-san,” I said, “can I play with those people?”
”Which ones, young master?”
”The scary one who’s yelling at those two.”
”I’ll go confirm their rank.”
Without fear, she approached the trio and spoke a few quick words. The stern woman with black hair turned and strode toward me, her boots striking the floor—*kat, kat, kat.*
She was a stern beauty—sharp eyes, posture perfect. The kind of woman who made you want to call her “Captain!” without thinking. She wore a cap like a soldier’s and though her hand was away from her sword, her presence alone could crush a weaker soul. She had that aura of command, the weight of Taisho-era romance about her.
Yet, before me—a man of her own town—she removed her cap, bowed properly, and bent a knee.
Vocal Slut-san must have judged her safe, for she’d brought her straight to me. I granted the soldier leave to greet.
”I was told you wished to see me,” she said, voice firm. “My comrades offered rude stares. I beg forgiveness. Name your punishment.”
”Forget punishment. Let’s play. Do you know battledore?”
”…What?”
”Here—this thing.”
”I—uh—no, not really?”
I took her white-gloved hand and led her to the center of the room. She followed, stiff and confused.
”I’m not skilled in games,” she murmured.
”Then we’ll practice together!”
She turned, flustered. “Bodyguard-dono, is this… permitted?”
From behind, Vocal Slut-san waved cheerfully. “It’s fine! Go ahead!”
That smile of hers—bright and brainless as always—yet maybe not so mindless. My health is her duty, after all, and meeting strangers, trading energy, must count as medicine for the heart. Seeing only the same faces every day rots the mind. A change of company can heal it. Sports are better when you face someone new. Whether by instinct or care, she must have decided it was good for me.
My left hand can’t move two fingers, so I pinched the feathered seed between the remaining three and tossed it upward. The right-hand paddle flicked it with a clean *kat-tsun!* sending it sailing toward the Taisho-style soldier.
”Here goes!”
”Well, I’ll try—whoa! P-pardon! I’m not used to—”
The grown woman fumbled the return. The others laughed; she panicked. One wrong hit and the ball could strike me—unthinkable! Or worse, she might make me fall. Yet refusing to play would shame her as a guard. She had to keep balance between caution and pride.
”Oh—damn! Why does the ball curve like that? What sorcery—!”
Her anxious voice stirred more laughter. I couldn’t help joining in; watching a strict adult flustered by a small child was too much.
”Oof—hah!”
”Good form, Captain!” shouted one of her comrades.
*Ka-tsun.*
*Ka-tsun.*
The ball danced back and forth again and again. My stamina had grown; the rally lasted longer. Arcs of flight, leaps of effort, both of us sweating, chasing, laughing. Her movements steadied as she learned the rhythm, returning the seed cleanly now.
I dashed around like a squirrel, darting after each shot. Our shared clumsiness made it perfect—each bounce unpredictable, each return a small victory.
”Damn it, the Chief’s cheating!” one of the two punished women grumbled. “I found this spot first!”
”Look at that smile,” the other sighed. “An angel among angels. I want to breathe that air, bottle it!”
The pair who’d been scolded earlier now looked bitter, muttering curses. They reminded me of barmaids whose favorite patron had been stolen by a senior—resentful but helpless, like dogs robbed of their treat.
*Ka-tsun…*
*Ka—crack!*
”Oh—broke it.”
The soapberry seed had endured too long. The soldier-woman exhaled, relieved the match ended without harm. Sweat traced her temple.
”Is… that the end, then? If so, I shall take my leave.”
”One more round?”
”…Just one, then.”
And so we played again, the proud sister dashing about, desperate not to disappoint me.
When at last we stopped, she bowed. “I had a fine time. I thank you for your kindness toward the Imperial Guard.”
”I had fun too.”
”I am deeply honored.”
We talked for a while after. I was curious about her and her comrades; they, about me—the boy no one in town had seen before, though surely they’d heard rumors.
”So, you’re the long-missing young master,” she said, eyes narrowing with respect. “I never imagined one so gentle.”
”So everyone knows the story, huh?”
”Indeed. It’s a debated tale among the townfolk… but as of today, I count myself your loyal fan.”
”Well, that’s—uh—thank you, I guess.”
Her words embarrassed me. Truth be told, I still feel uneasy around the Imperial Guards, especially the high-ranked women. Too many reminders of what they once did to Maggot-san. I still don’t know what quarrel lay between my household and the town’s authorities, nor how deep their dislike runs.
Still, after this game, I could tell she bore no hatred.
Trying to cover my awkward gratitude, I asked plainly, “I heard most Guards from other quarters don’t really like us. Is that true for you too, big sister?”
She blinked, then smiled faintly. “One should judge by one’s own eyes, not by rumor. I live by that.”
Her severe face softened as she smiled, and that warmth struck straight through me.
I was happy—too happy, maybe. She must have noticed, for she almost reached out to pat my head like a relative might, then caught herself and pulled back, flustered. Perhaps, in our easy play, she had half-forgotten I was male. That gesture would not be allowed.
We watched her leave, prideful yet kind, with the two resentful comrades in tow. I called out just before she vanished through the door.
”Will you come again tomorrow?”
”Ah—that… depends on duty,” she stammered.
A pity. She matched me well in skill, and I’d hoped to play again. Maybe next time I could even learn more about the other men’s Guards.
My hopeful little proposal was turned down. When I looked disappointed, the Taisho-style soldier’s sharp gaze softened, and she glanced helplessly toward my guard, Vocal Slut-san, as if pleading for rescue.
It must be hard to refuse a boy’s wish. Her eyes begged for help—*please, talk him out of it gently.*
”Bodyguard-dono…” she murmured.
But subtlety was never my guard’s strong point. Whatever silent message the woman meant, Vocal Slut-san must have understood it as, *your master’s being spoiled—fix it.*
Beaming, she clapped her hands and declared, “This older sister has more important duties than playing! She won’t be coming back, so let’s give up and behave, Young Master!”
”Bodyguard-dono! I did not say that!” the soldier cried, half in despair.
Well, she *was* clearly on duty. I shouldn’t have kept her so long. Still, when Vocal Slut-san blinked in confusion and asked, “Wait, so you *can* come tomorrow?” I nearly laughed aloud. Gods, she’s hopeless.
Feeling sorry for the poor woman, I thanked her properly and let them go. Truth is, I wanted to know them better… and yes, I’d been looking at them with more than polite interest. The women serving other men were often stunning, and I’d love to spend time with them too.
By now, I’m free to befriend women of Kujukuri Town. After graduating from the academy and being officially recognized with my own Imperial Guard, the town council no longer has the right to shuffle my attendants around. If they know I enjoy a woman’s company—so be it.
In short, my field of conquest just widened. And damn, it’s hard not to get distracted. I don’t even mind a twenty-year age gap. Older women have their own gravity, and I don’t mind being caught in it.
”Still, I’m tired. Let’s head back,” I said.
”Agreed,” she smiled. “Wipe off that sweat and don’t catch cold!”
We gathered the broken seed and left the exercise hall, heading toward my private quarters to change.
Later, by my door, she said brightly, “Good work today, Young Master! Rest well!”
”Make sure you stretch before bed,” she added sternly. “Otherwise you’ll wake with sore muscles!”
”Got it. But first, come here.”
”Yes!”
She followed me to the entrance. This district was lined with fine houses, quiet and empty at this hour. I wished I could just flop onto the bed with her—share sweets, play shogi—but that wasn’t allowed. We weren’t friends, not exactly.
Still, she felt like one. A friend… and something more. Even if I planned to aim certain desires her way.
Before parting, I made her lean down to my height—and slipped my hand to her chest.
She laughed lightly. “Ahaha, that tickles.”
”Magnificent,” I said, dead serious. “Now clasp your hands behind your back and push your chest out.”
”Like this?”
Perfect. The curve stood proud against her slender frame. I squeezed, unable to stop myself.
”Young Master,” she said kindly, “you’re at that age when you start to notice the differences between men and women. It’s good—your body’s growing strong.”
She smiled as if she truly meant it, and somehow even that—being praised for something like *this*—made my heart swell. She’d praise me for anything, I thought.
Between her warmth and softness, I could feel myself turning into a hopeless creature.
”Come on,” she encouraged, “squeeze harder! Let’s make it a strength exercise.”
”Uh… okay.”
”One, two. One, two!”
I followed her rhythm, grip tightening, loosening, my pulse pounding. What a perfect trainer. I could do this forever.
”And now, one last strong squeeze,” she said.
”Ghh—!”
”Well done, Young Master. Excellent effort.”
Her voice was bright, proud, innocent.
Maybe I could end the day just like this. Freedom meant I could, if I wished. Soon, I’d have to train… other muscles, too.
She watched me enter the room, eyes warm, satisfied.
Inside, I stretched out on the bed. Afternoon rest. Later, I’d write in my journal, take supper, and spend my free time before sleeping early, as life in this age demands—up with the dawn, down with the dusk.
Evenings often bring reports from the Guards—weekly profits, resource accounts. I listen, trying to understand money, pretending it’s about frugality, but really, I just want to learn how the world works. They say a man’s worth lies in character, not coin—but my charm’s already unmatched, so I might as well strengthen the mind too.
I’m not like other boys. Most spend every waking hour in moral instruction. Their Guards pour all their effort into shaping them, teaching them to shed prejudice and face womanhood without fear—a brutal season for both sides.
In many cases, a boy engaged during school will recoil when the time for intimacy comes, denying what was once agreed. It’s common—puberty twisting the heart. When that happens, the education officers, the guards, the entire region band together to guide him through. It’s their moment to prove their skill.
I, however, have already passed that hell. My Guards have suffered enough for my sake. Now comes harvest season.
”Hm? What’s this invitation?”
It was from Lady Cult Slut-san, one of those who take their duties far too seriously—an offer to join her for tea. She said she had something to discuss. Naturally, I accepted.
Maybe it’s about something indecent. Gods, I hope so.
I’d planned to sneak after Trash-san next—to watch her dungeon runs in the alien ship’s second layer—but that can wait. She spends her days exploring the ship’s deeper zones, unearthing strange relics and fighting horrors. I’ll catch her next time.
For now, I’ll trade the blood and dust of battle for the quiet scent of tea.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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