KATANAGATARI 1

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A petite woman, but the seemingly dozen layers2 of grandiose silk with which she bedizened herself made her look far bigger than she really was. Big as in giant. She wasn’t so much dressed in these clothes as riding in them, strapped in for a stroll. Her jewelry was chunky enough to function as fortified armor. But none of this stood out more starkly than her long white hair─not a strand of black.

Our Schemer, Togame.

“Catchphrase?”

The man responsible for this response, if you could call it that, was as big as she was petite─and as minimally clad as Togame was overdressed. Wearing only the bare necessities, to the point where any less would have been scandalous. Stripped to the waist, and beyond his arm guards and his leg guards,3 wearing only a hakama.4 On his back he toted a massive bundle, full to bursting, but showed no sign of hardship.

Shichika Yasuri.

Seventh Master of the Kyotoryu.

“What the heck’s a catchphrase?”

“What am I going to do with you? A catchphrase is a thing you say almost without realizing, whenever things get crazy. It just pops out.”

“Oh. Okay. But whose catchphrase are we talking?”

“Yours.”

“…”

Shichika nodded obediently.

As appropriate a response as he could offer.

“But wait a second. If I have to say it without realizing, should I be thinking about it?”

“Focus, Shichika.”

Very funny. She disregarded him with gusto.

Togame launched her explanation.

“I tried writing down last month’s events, on Haphazard Island.”

“Huh? Oh, right. Your report.”

Grand Commander of Arms of the Yanari Shogunate Military Directorate, Owari Bakufu.

That was Togame the Schemer’s full title.5

The report Shichika alluded to would be submitted to the upper ranks of the bakufu. A handwritten account of what Togame, sent off by shogunate decree, had witnessed in her travels.

Dispatched─on a Sword Hunt.

In pursuit of the Twelve Possessed, the masterworks of Kiki Shikizaki.

“Right, your report. I did exactly what you asked me to. You said you wanted a spectacle. I gave that scummy ninja what he had coming to him.”

“I’m sure it was spectacular, but whatever you did to Komori Maniwa, I wasn’t there to witness it. Ergo, it cannot be included in my report.”

“Why not?” Why make me do it then? “I did exactly what you asked.”

“Sorry to say, but I can only record what I see with my own eyes. Don’t worry─we’ll have other chances. But listen, Shichika. In explaining how I seized Zetto the Leveler, I came to a crucial realization.”

“What was that?”

“You have no personality.”6

Certainly one way to put it.

This brutal dig would be enough to put most people in a funk;7 and Shichika, raised on a remote island, the embodiment of unsophistication, was no exception. He grimaced and stopped midstride.

“I-I don’t?”

“In my first draft, that ninja stood out as a more compelling character. I attempted several revisions, but it was useless. No amount of reworking changed the equation. Try as I might, there was no way I could make you more compelling than Komori. When I read over my final draft, you struck me as no more than a half-naked baboon.”

“Whoa, Miss Togame. Wait a second.”

He was so flustered he added the formality.8

“When you’re fighting a guy who can pull swords out of his throat, personality is not how you win. He may have had more personality, but I’m the one who won the battle.”

“Sure. I don’t want you losing battles. But I can’t have you losing any popularity contests, either. Let’s just say─you aren’t florid enough.”9

“Have some consideration!”

Apparently, no personality and half-naked baboon stung far less than the accusation of being insufficiently florid.

Which makes sense, considering his name.10

“Look,” Togame said. “The Maniwa is like a ninja circus. Komori was only the beginning. They have this one guy, Shirasagi, who talks backwards.”

“What do you mean?”

Shichika could not imagine.

Much less fathom the implications.

And would there be any point to it, anyway?

“Actually, could you just stop comparing me with those Maniwacs?11 Not just my personality, but in general.”

The Maniwacs.

Catchy name for a band, too much so for a band of assassins.

Needless to say, that was lost on Shichika, and given the era, on Togame as well. “Maniwacs, that has a nice ring to it,” she adopted it happily.

Poor ninjas.

“I realize I can’t ask you to start acting like them overnight. They’re nothing but personality. It wouldn’t even be fair for me to point to them as models or goals. But Shichika, I need you to at least put in an effort.”

“E-Effort…”

“Tireless effort is character-building.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works…”

“For now, back to your catchphrase.”

It was evidently useless to resist. “Uh huh…”

“It’s like picking the title before you write the book. If you leave out your cup, it fills itself. Don’t underestimate the power of a catchphrase. It can define a character. Nothing works quicker, not even close. It’s your best bet, and it could be your greatest asset. I say catchphrase, but you could call it a motto, or a slogan, or a signature line. Point being, it characterizes how you speak. Take that ninja, Shirasagi Maniwa. For him, talking backwards is like a catchphrase, broadly speaking.”

“Huh.” Not that Shichika had the slightest idea what talking backwards meant.

“Here’s a more concrete example. Remember the weird way Komori laughed? ‘Kyahah!’ What an excellent way of conveying his immaturity, and the madness and the cruelty it spawned. When you hear it, you say to yourself, ‘This is not a normal guy.’”

“I wouldn’t mind being seen as normal.”

“That’s well and good, but not good enough for me. I don’t want my report to put my audience to sleep. What if they quit reading halfway through?”

“Aren’t these reports normally pretty lame? Not like I’ve ever read one.”

No one was expecting a romping, rollicking12 account.

Or so Shichika believed.

“And that is precisely why mine cannot be normal. You know, that swordsman Hakuhei Sabi, who I was working with before, he had a pretty good one, too. It makes me sick13 to compliment a traitor…but sometimes you need to give someone his due.”

“Hakuhei Sabi, huh.”

The mightiest swordsman in all the land─they said. Despite being a kid of barely twenty.

“For future reference, what was it?”

“He often interrupts himself to say, ‘Hear that? Made your heart beat!’”

“…”

Sabi was in possession of Hakuto the Whisper, one of the Twelve Possessed, the masterworks of Kiki Shikizaki. At this rate, they were bound to face off somewhere down the line─but Shichika rapidly lost any desire to have anything to do with the man.

And yet Togame seemed to think his catchphrase was fairly dashing…

Shichika had better brace himself.

“When I was working with Komori and with Sabi, I never had to worry about their catchphrases, but in your case, I’d be remiss if I didn’t do you the favor. I don’t want a repeat of that last report.”

“Oh…”

Some favor.

“Clueless as you are, it’s my responsibility, as your employer, to take care of you. After all, I promised Nanami.”

“I highly doubt my sister was worried about catchphrases.”

“How about a couple more examples? Let’s see, I know a guy who says ‘Wipe that smile off your face!’ every time you speak to him, whether or not you are smiling. Another guy cries “Ooowhoo!”14 like a dog whenever anything big happens. Some people tilt their sentences a certain way. And then there’s local accents. Those are great for personality. They announce where you’re from.”

“Great examples.”

Shichika nodded thankfully. He had half a mind to just give in.

Arguing and debating was such a pain…

“Hey, Togame, I think I got it.”

“What?”

“Not sure if you can call it a catchphrase, but there’s one that I’m always thinking, or saying.”

“Ah.”

“It’s, well, ‘what a pain’─”

“Cheerio!”15

She suckerpunched him.

A fist right to the ribs.

But between Shichika’s toned muscle and Togame’s shrimpy arms, the blow─surprise or not─didn’t make much of an impact. He would sooner notice a mosquito land on his skin.

“You dolt. How are you supposed to showcase your personality with such tired words? A report where the main subject is always complaining about how much of a pain everything is will make whoever reads it feel the same. Try to put yourself in my position. I’m the one who has to write you into being. What if I start wanting to quit?”

“O-Okay…”

Totally rejected.

His sole claim to personality, totally rejected.

“Think for a second. If I depict you as seeing our Sword Hunt as a pain in the butt, it’s going to look like I’m forcing you to do this.”

“I need to be loving it?”

“Exactly. Any impression of coercion is one that I would hope to avoid.”

She was going to be evaluated.

Ah, the sorrows of serving the court.

Thing is, Shichika didn’t really hate his job.

“Alright, got it,” he said. “I won’t call anything a pain ever again. Sound good? But Togame, I was kind of wondering, when you jabbed me a minute ago, what was that you screamed? ‘Cheerio’?”

“Oh, that?” Shaking her hand (her punch had done some damage after all, though not to Shichika), Togame smirked. She knew she had him. “It’s my catchphrase.”

“Huh. What does it mean? Doesn’t sound like Japanese.”

“As if an island monkey can judge. I’ll have you know that it’s a grand old saying, favored by the warriors of Satsuma in Kyushu as a battle cry─you might call it their kiai.16 Not so much a dialect as a custom. Not like I have any strong ties to Kyushu. I simply thought that ‘Cheerio’ is a cute thing to yell in battle. I gather this was the first time you heard me say it, but I actually use it quite a bit.”

“In Satsuma country, huh?”

“Yes.” Togame spoke with pride. “It suits my personality exactly.”

The battle cry she referenced, while indeed originating in Satsuma, was in fact the much-more Japanese “Chesuto,”17 while “Cheerio” was an imported word denoting some combination of “Sayonara!” “Bye-Bye!” and “Take Care!”─but you will have to wait for Book Five, when she and Shichika venture down to Satsuma, for the white-haired Schemer to finally see her error. Look forward to ten-plus manuscript sheets’18 worth of humiliation and burnt ego.

Let us return to the conversation.

Irrelevant as it may be to the present volume.

“Not sure I get this catchphrase thing. Can’t think a good one up, not on the spot. Whatever you call it…”

Until the previous month, Shichika had spent almost his entire life in solitude on that deserted island. Before Togame came, the only two people he had ever met were Mutsue Yasuri, Sixth Master of the Kyotoryu, his father, and Nanami Yasuri, his older sister. The three of them had no use for catchphrases or the like.

Or even for what we call personality.

Which is perhaps why he could be accused of lacking one.

Back on the island, there had been no objective19 point of view.

Everything had been subjective.20

“Not to worry. I knew you’d say that, so I thought up a few.”

“…”

What a busybody.

That was Shichika’s honest reaction.

He didn’t voice it, but it must have shown on his face since he was no master of duplicity.

“I figured you may have a preference,” Togame went on, oblivious and unabashed.

Those who ignore how other people feel can dominate and steer the conversation in any era.

“You have the right to choose your favorite candidate. I don’t mind which.”

“That’s an awfully pushy right…hope there’s one I like.”

“Of course there is.”

Togame was confident. Too confident.

Where was she going with this?

“Here’s one you can use as a rejoinder. Once in a while, go ‘Tee-hee!’”

“Nope.” Since he couldn’t be bothered, Shichika was apt to go along with whatever people said, but this time he had to voice his blunt refusal. “If I got a report about a guy like that, I’d burn it. The world has enough garbage.”

“Excuse me? Having a hulk like you titter makes for a nice contrast─”

“Nice for who? Look, all I mean is, do you want to spend all day, every day21 with a guy who goes ‘Tee-hee’? Would you really want to go on a journey with him?”

“You know what? No. Forget it.”

She moved on quick. She was pretty selfish.

“This one has more to do with changing how you talk. Let’s try a dialect.”

“A dialect? You can’t pick that sort of thing up overnight.”

“Why not talk like you’re from Kyoto? Having a hulk like you speak in an elegant fashion would make for a nice─”

“I’m sure Kyoto has its share of hulks…and another thing. This contrast you’re so keen on is a dangerous thing. One slipup, and it’s over. Those stakes are too high.”

“Strong rebuttal. I’m impressed.”

“Enough. Why do I actually have to say this thing? If you think it’s so important, can’t you just cook something up for the report?”

“I’m afraid not. It must not contain any lies.”

“But aren’t you already staging22 this?”

“Lies are one thing. Staging is another.”

What kind of twisted code of ethics was this?

Not like he should have been surprised. This was Togame.

“Writing lies is out of the question, but leaving out real details is an editorial decision. Take this whole conversation. Every sentence is going to be pruned. Anyway, if the first two options aren’t to your taste, you’ll have to settle for a signature line. Personally, I find them slightly less dynamic, but they get the job done.”

“It better not make for a nice contrast.”

“Fear not. No more of that. Trust me, these cut a figure. I have three options for you.”

“You know, can I just laugh in a specific way? How about that ninja’s ‘Kyahah’? I could live with that.”

“Imbecile. You don’t want your personality to overlap with anyone’s.”

“Oh.”

“In a way it’s worse than having no personality.”

“…”

Perhaps she had a point.

It made sense, more or less.

But more importantly, when he really thought it over, he didn’t want to be overlapping a perverse ninja who pulled katanas from his mouth.

“Alright. Let’s hear your suggestions.”

“‘Aren’t I the darling of the gods?’”

Repeat after me, Togame urged.

“‘Aren’t I the darling of the gods?’”

“I dunno, Togame…weren’t you supposed to be smart enough to make up for not knowing how to fight?”

“Excuse me? Only a smart person would hit upon such an inspired catchphrase.”

“If it’s supposed to be a prank, yeah, it’s inspired…”

Ouch.

The second he uttered that line, it’d be all over for his personality.

“You’d be saying it mostly to taunt your enemies. It would assert your superiority and show that your confidence cannot be shaken. Express your omnipotence, and crown every victory with swagger.”

“Or maybe come off as a real jerk…”

“Yeah, well, if I had my druthers, you’d be a bit of a jerk. Just think how it would boost my reputation if I trained a naughty, cheeky, saucy island monkey to do my bidding. You’re too nice.”

“…”

What a selfish view.

There was such a thing as being too egotistic.23

Togame had to be plotting to portray him as a nasty fellow in order to make herself look good by comparison.

“Let’s try number two. Ready? ‘Time for a permanent island vacation.’ There.”

“There?”

Too close to home.

After spending twenty years stranded on an island, how could he smugly wish the same fate on someone else?

“You dodo. That’s what gives it bite.”

It somehow got even more awkward.

How did you ever become Grand Commander?

The words almost left his lips.

He had to end this conversation now.

Things had dragged on long enough, less banter than open sore.

“Hey Togame, have any more…practical ideas?”

“What? Everything so far was plenty practical… You’re just much pickier than I reckoned. I thought you would go with the flow.”

“Yeah, well, I’m as surprised as you we’re still discussing this… I’m willing to compromise, I really am. Let’s hear your third pick.”

“Okay. This idea was inspired by Shichika Hachiretsu, your super killer move.”24

“Don’t call it that.”

His Last Fatal Orchid, she meant.

Whatever. Close enough.

“When your opponent threatens you, just say: ‘Not if you’re torn to smithereens.’”

“…”

He would have liked to turn it down.

He came so close to telling her.

What made her think his Last Fatal Orchid needed a hokey25 slogan? Shichika Hachiretsu was a move he had devised on his own, and he was quite attached to it.