Wooden Shoes

"A storm's coming, my friend."

Stepping onto the northern-facing balcony of Okada castle, Yasahiro Yagami cast his gaze out to the sea following Lord Kita's outstretched hand to the horizon. In the distance, large clouds billowed upwards like some sort of bloated anvil—the beginnings of a thunderhead still more than a few hours offshore. At its base, the sea roiled in unruly curls capped by ever-growing splashes of white that sent flocks of seafaring birds inland as the conditions at sea became untenable even for them.

"It will pass," the samurai leaned against the railing. "They always do."

"Hmm," Naito Kita's brow furrowed as he glanced over his shoulder back into the castle and to the south. "I wish that were true."

A hawk tucked in its wings, let out a shrill screech, and dove down towards the sheer cliff at the base of the castle complex where it disappeared from sight. A few moments later it reappeared with a limp, unfortunate seabird in its talons. Caught between the coming storm and the hungry hawk, the seabird had little choice in its fate; it was simply unlucky and in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Zukumiki?" Yasahiro broke the silence with a rhetorical question. All his conversations with the deposed Lord Kita centered on the warlord to the south. "I happened to visit his construction sites on Rice's border. It seems he intends to—"

"I know what he intends," Naito snapped cutting the exile off, and stormed back inside. "Please, don't patronize me, Yasahiro. It's only a matter of time before he sweeps across the land and finishes what he started five years ago."

Running a hand through his hair, Yasahiro took a deep breath of the briny air before following Naito inside—this wasn't going to be easy. The topmost room in Okada castle had long since become Naito's personal workplace. Stacks of past edicts and long-forgotten agreements filled a series of cabinets on the far wall, a large topographical map of Rice Country dominated the center of the room, and directly across from the door stood a humble desk where Naito often spent many a long night reliving an elusive golden age. Whatever wealth Lord Kita once had was conspicuously absent, pawned away to make ends meet and appease Zukumiki.

"What if it wasn't?" Yasahiro said, standing across the map from Lord Kita. "A matter of time that is; what if it wasn't a matter of time?"

Naito widened his stance and gazed down at the map, but did not speak.

"I won't mince words with you, Lord Kita," the samurai continued, electing to use Naito's formal title. "I've spent the last few months here in your land and don't want to see it fall to Zukumiki any more than you do. So, I have a proposition for you..."

He paused, and Naito raised his attention from the map.

"...You have the loyalty of this land to lead it, and I have the combat know-how to defend it. Together we could—"

"Yes, yes, together we could meet an ignoble end atop Zukumiki's pikes in some misguided crusade," Lord Kita threw up his hands before letting them fall to his side. "We don't have the resources or the people to make a respectable effort."

A long silence followed.

"I agree," Yasahiro chose his words carefully. "It would not be easy, but I would front the funds needed to get us started and help train the people you bring in with your connections. Together we would have a chance or, I suppose, we could also go our separate ways here and each die our own ignoble deaths knowing we ceded an entire country to a petty bandit."

Lightning flashed and thunder cracked outside the window signaling the coming storm making both men flinch; the storm was getting closer. Up and down the coast of the Land of Rice people were likely hunkering down to weather out the destruction it would bring.

"Personally, I can't sit around doing nothing any longer."

Having said his piece, Yasahiro gave Lord Kita a shallow bow and turned to go. If Naito lacked the courage to stand up to Zukumiki then the samurai would do it himself by waging a one-man war against the bandit king. He would surely die, but at least he would die doing something other than running from his past, and perhaps he would inspire others to rise up against Zukumiki. At worst his journey would finally be at an end. Hopefully, Asahi would forgive him.

"Wait."

Already halfway through the doorway, Yasahiro stopped in his tracks.

"You're right, it can't go on like this."

Still turned away from Naito, the exile flashed a slim smile before melting into a more serious look as he returned to his place by the map.

"Tomorrow I'll put out the word among the hamlets and put your ryo to good use," Naito's tone hardened into something between resolve and resignation. "Leave the managing of funds to me, and you take care to train a force up that will keep both our heads firmly on our shoulders. What do you say?"

This time Yasahiro did not hide his smile. Pulling one of Lord Kita's letter openers across his right hand, the samurai winced and held it out for his new business partner. Naito, for his part, did the same and clasped the exile's hand in his own, an agreement in blood. The night that followed further christened the agreement with sake and the drawing up of a formal charter.  And so Tanbogakure was forged that evening in blood, sake, and good company—Zukumiki would soon know justice and the Land of Rice a new era, one way or another.
---
Exit.

TWC: 956
Officially founding Tanbogakure
-50k ryo, 3k remaining and deducted
+ 248 word to fully learn lightning element with 25% full stat discount (rest of training here)
The remainder of the words is going into the void never to be seen again.

Approved!!