Hisao made his way out of the cell, triumphant as could be. He had no weapon stowed away in the closet as he lacked any weapon to be confiscated, though he did momentarily stop by the closet for his gourd. Thankfully, the guards had assumed it was water, and hadn't touched it. Hisao crouched down and undid the cork with a hefty hand, raising it momentarily to the white-haired gaijin as he stood up.

"A thousand blessings, truly." With his spare hand he gave the girl a queer, foreign-looking salute, flicking his thumb towards her from his forehead.

As Ryotaro attacked the guards feet away, and Ibiki frantically looked through the closet for his swords, Hisao seemed to have a moment of uninterrupted clarity. He hoisted the heavy gourd's bottom onto his right hand while holding the neck with his left hand, sloshing the contents into his mouth as if he had been stranded at sea all his life. Without making separate gulps, Hisao poured the gourd's contents down his throat for about five seconds, before leaning far back to drink the last few drops of sake. He stayed in this position, bent backwards almost ninety-degrees, letting his hands drift backwards towards the floor. He felt a fire ignite deep within his belly, extending out through his hands and face, loosening each of his muscles almost completely. Quickly, he stood back up like a rake being stepped on, as if remembering where he was.

With Ryotaro having taken care of the guards, Hisao bounded towards the exit, leaping over the two incapacitated guardsmen on the ground and barreling towards freedom like an arrow shot from a bow. He leapt up at the doorframe, grabbing it with both hands and swinging up and out of the door, building momentum even further, before realizing the jailhouse door opened directly towards a wall. With an audible [i]smack[/i], Hisao hit the wall and fell straight onto the ground, grabbing his now bleeding nose in pain.

"Shit! Shit, shit, [i]shit[/i]! [i][u]Shit![/u][/i]"

"Quiet down!" A voice called out. Hisao looked up, still holding his nose, expecting to see the scornful face of backup guards. Instead, he found that the village of Endoyuki's jailhouse actually had [i]two[/i] entrances. Hisao stood in an alley, hidden by the shadows, a small shrub in between the jailhouse and another building, and the pitch-black darkness of night. It seemed that the jailhouse was near the marketplace, judging by the smell of roasting meat, though that only helped make him hungrier than it did help him remember his way.

"Ibiki-san!" Hisao hissed, trying to stay quiet, "Did you find your swords? I just got my nose broken out here! Come on!"