Kunoichi

[*Kree]

The merchant from before has requested that I portray this city in my usual style. As far as I can tell, he finds something compelling about it and we have spoken about the way I handle proportions and the composition. He seems to be the cultured sort, despite not being Kozakuran. He even glanced the personal touch I had added to the painting of the Nightingale's castle.

He will pay me well for this service, a good six thousand with half in advance and the unusual subject will be an interesting challenge for my abilities. It will be a good thing to focus on when I tire of painting the demonkin's waves. I am unsure of what the merchant truly wishes me to paint at this point since we lost track of this as we spoke at length about my home and family and the way of my work. It feels strange to be so personal with such a man and I may have let the excitement of company to get the better of my sensibilities.

I told the merchant of the way our master taught us without giving away too much and I suppose that this is why I got so carried away. In telling another of my home, I keep the memory alive. I miss Wind. Sometimes, before sleep finds me, I think of him. I remember my master telling me how he could sometimes feel his left hand long after he lost it to the Nightingale's sword. I believe I finally understand what he meant by it.

[*Kree]

The demonkin's waves have been completed. I am very pleased with the way it all turned out. The quiet fury of the depths playing across the surface with its rolling waves present an evocative image. I am especially content with the way I captured the spray of seafoam with my smallest brush, dotting the crest of the strongest waves. I included the whales as well, the back of the large creature jutting out of the water like a living isle. The tail and fins of the other whales look much better, however, capturing the creatures in motion. I must not get too carried away with my work, however. My success depends entirely on the demonkin's approval...

The merchant's request of my vision of the city is coming along quite well. I am not sure if he understands my symbolism but I doubt he will mind what I have done so far. The cherry tree I added is not something I have seen in this place but it is a fine example of the mixed emotions this city provides. The transition and change that has been imposed on my life lies in its fading blossoms. The bare branches of the tree on the other side exemplifies the end of my old life. A death of the world I knew. A single bud carries a promise of a new beginning. Someday...

I digress. The memory of home weighs heavily these days but I must not allow it to influence the merchant's request too much. Currently, I struggle with capturing the rooftops of the iconic inn at the marketplace. I have considered adding a slight hint of Dojyu's architecture to its structure as it represents my new home.

[*Kree]

Yesterday, I had the fortune of meeting both the merchant and the demonkin in one place. It was a busy day in the marketplace, like most others and it surprised me to even spot them in the crowd. Granted, the demonkin dresses very distinctively but there are so many of them. They all look so much alike.

I do not know why I saw fit to inform the merchant that his painting is almost finished. It seems so wasteful in retrospect to only add to his expectations rather than present my work when it is done. I suppose I can blame his smile.
As we spoke, we were interrupted by a strange, catlike creature I could only assume to be another form of the spiritfolk. Covered in garish fur and barely dressed, like so many other locals, it was hardly a secret that she wanted attention.

After our brief exchange, I left the merchant to his customers and approached the demonkin. She was quite happy to hear that I had finished her waves and once I had retrieved them from my room, she paid me generously. I offered her to pay only four thousand but I think she misunderstood me and offered to pay me six. I was shocked! So much for such work was simply stunning and I was in no state to correct her. Why would I? If I keep this up, I may not have to kill anymore...

The night that followed was sleepless. I have been ill lately and thoughts of the others give my mind no ease. My master often told us when we were ill, that "if the mind is ailing, the body will not mend". We were to purge ourselves of concerns. All thoughts of consequences and fear had to fade, no matter how dire the situation. It was certainly difficult when poisoned by a rival clan but for the most part, I did well. Rain was usually too emotional to distance herself and Wind was too concerned with appearing weak. Despite his stoic approach, I could always tell that he struggled. Both against the illnesses and with keeping up appearances. What I want said is that distancing myself is difficult now. I wish to remember, not lose what I have left of my past. I lay in my bed until the light returned to my window, struggling to find peace in the past...

[*Kree]

A few days ago I brought the merchant his painting. He was very pleased with it, claiming it was exactly what he had been looking for. I am glad I was able to adapt my methods so quickly because this was a challenge of no small degree.
Like most merchants, feeding on the wealth and services of others as they do, the man saw fit to pay me only two thousand four hundred as opposed to the three thousands we had agreed to. This is where he confused me. Did he pay me less to show his true opinion of my work or had he simply forgotten our agreement? I saw fit not to impose the question on him because of how it would question his integrity. I do not know why I extended such respect to a foreigner but it is done.

Later, he asked me about my latest project. It is still a simple sketch but I intend to make it a proper painting in time. I told him the old story of Sogo and Kiso, the battle of clans in the old era and how I wanted my work to portray the inescapable path they chose and that their deaths had changed little in the world. If it turns out well I should sell it to the merchant. The premise seemed to captivate his senses.

Not long ago, I was attacked again. The red army occupied the streets and in sticking their fingers everywhere, there was little room to hide. This had forced a criminal out in the open and in desperation, he tried to rob me. He demanded that I was to give him all my money, calling me something strange I cannot recall. Naturally, I refused having no interest in becoming a victim. He charged me and instead of stepping to my side as he expected, I ducked, grabbed his wrist and threw him over my shoulder. The wet snap that followed told me that I had broken his arm. In retaliation, he tried to stab me from his prone position. I stepped back, feeling that familiar burn, realising that he had cut my arm. In doing this, he made it clear that he was not going to retreat so I spun around to his side and struck the back of his neck. It caved in quickly and his last breath was cut into a strange gargling noise. I suppose this is a positive change. That these foreign beasts would now rather rob me than rape me means that I have managed to support my living quite well.

[*Kree]

Business is slow. I seem to have lost my patrons and their commissions gather dust. Part of me wishes to punish them for this and sell the paintings to a more appreciative customer but it would be very embarrassing if they end up returning tomorrow morning with a reasonable excuse for their absence...
This still does not change that I need to sell my services to support my living. Perhaps I should seek out the demonkin and take her offer to work on the skyship? It could be exciting for a while and I would get to see what she has made of my paintings of the sea and the whales.

As days turn to months I feel very lonely. I cannot let go of my thoughts of others and to have that bond severed like this is truly beginning to affect me. This morning I woke with a pillow in my arms! My vivid dreams might explain the matter. I wish Wind was here. It is selfish but I do not care anymore. If I could, I would bring him here. If only I could contact him...

[*Kree]

I have not written in some time. I have no excuse.
Business has been good. Many strange foreigners have been keen to request my paintings and it seems to catch on as a worthy display of cultured ways. This appeals even to savages, for which I am glad. They all have coin.

Most recently, my work drew the attention of an enormous man with strange little bells in his hair. His swordarm ached with overuse and I was given a rare opportunity to reaffirm my grip on the less lethal arts my master taught me. I tried to be careful, all things considered as the man's sheer size made the work more suited to the frame of cattle than a human being. The numbing strike nessecary to dull the pain had to be carefully balanced and I suspect that a lesser man might have died from such force. I am glad that I had not forgotten the way.

I will not lie. I found the man quite appealing but he belongs to another. My longing for Wind has not faded and my attempts to preserve his memory has done little to put the matter to rest. I need company. His company.

As the spirits would have it, I was later hired to help the tall man's wife. She was just as tall and had large wings. My only experience with such things was from the time when the clan had to kill a group of tengu. Breaking their wings with a swift strike kept them on the ground and this woman was grounded, as far as I could tell.

I had to apply the same pressure to her body as the tall man but I was not prepared for the reaction when she almost struck me by reflex. Wings are like another pair of arms to look out for. I did what I could and as it turned out, I realised that she had hurt her hip from wearing heavy plates of steel at all times.
Why do so many of these strange people consider armour to be casualwear?

Now I am working on a portrait of the two.
I think they will be a good source of income in the coming months.

[*Kree]

The painting is finished. I opted to show the giant couple as I see them. In my painting, they stand back to back but in no contentious manner. Each serve as the eyes of the other where they cannot see. Their heads are turned halfway to the observer, their eyes fixed on an unknown. Along their sides, their hands are joined. It is not a subtle message but I doubt they will understand the meaning of the birds in the background. It is no matter. Now I must find them to recieve my payment.

A few days ago one of the spiritfolk requested my services.
I have no fondness for the bath house. It is far too humid and makes me tired. I should conduct my business where I live, instead. This is of no consequence to what happened, however. He was a warrior, like the others and very tightly muscled. With their long lives, do they seek some escape? This one clearly did in exercise.

He told me he had not known a proper touch for longer than I have been alive. As I began to work on his body I came to believe his claim. He was very difficult to tend but numbing his nerves made it easier, weakening his tension greatly. His back was like a pile of rocks and his legs petrified wood. Eventually I could feel him return to shape and had him stand. I had done my work but he was not satisfied. He stood there, unclad, boldly expecting me to touch him for pleasure.

It was a great insult but I remained calm. I told him this was not my trade, even though he offered greater payment. This was not a matter of coin and yet, he persisted, claiming that I would make much more if I were to relax my principles. Letting the matter rest, we parted ways with some awkwardness.

Such a revolting little man. The only time I would consider touching him like that would be so that I could crush the vessels with my palm. If he continues to insult others like this, I may get that chance. I have not plied my true calling for some time now but I know his body now and how I would strike. I will wait for someone to call for his death.

[*Kree]

The city is awash with spirits!
I was making my way to the marketplace to sell my art and found the stalls guarded by living bones armed with vicious looking scythes. To make matters worse, a robed creature floated by, carrying with it the chill of death. These foreign heathens and demonkin had no doubt done some terrible thing to upset the spirits enough to walk among them!

No one seemed bothered by any of this and I have found that I do myself a favour by trying to blend in. I found an empty stall and hung my paintings on display, struggling not to show my discomfort at the presence of the walking dead.
After waiting there for some time, I managed to sell a small painting of the sea of hope. As I sat there, I could feel a man's hands on my body! I tried to strike at this unseen molester but my hand only passed through air.

It seems that not every spirit walks openly. I tried to find some magic ward to keep those eager hands away from me but I could only find a deceitful, shoulike snake of a man who took me for a fool. I will have to find something proper soon. A talisman or some purifying insence to keep my home safe. The thought of those disembodied hands seeking me out as I bathe or in my sleep disturbs me greatly.

[*Kree]

I have come to hate what I do.
My home is lost to me, my clan believes that I am dead and I have sold my memories of them for the coin of foreigners. My heart is heavy and my spirit weakened and it is as if all the things that once promised comfort now only offer pain.

Not a day passes without a tear. I have tried to make a better life and failed. This city of spirits and demons never favoured my presence and through my waning efforts to still rise above it, I have fallen. Nothing lifts my spirit and the once fond memories I held now burn my heart to cinders.

I thought to make one last painting. One expression of my will, something to show those that may yet appreciate my efforts that my burden has become far too much to bear. I could not do it. My hand trembles even as I write this and the ink left only an unsteady pattern on the paper. It was all I could muster. I suppose it shows my struggle, in a way. I have since thrown my brushes in the fire.

My master once told me that the man who chooses to number his days need not fear another's will. Steady hearts may falter but to boldly face the truth holds no shame. Now I know what I must do.

All that I have done, I did for my kin.
When sun and moon meet on Shinkoku's shore, I will welcome them.