“Mind your own business, woman,” the scarred man said scathingly, standing up. Masako glanced nervously to the woman who had interrupted, taking in her intimidating demeanor and the sword at her side. Was she a samurai?

The bartender didn’t bother looking up from his work, and neither did any of the other tavern-goers. It was custom to turn a blind eye to the things one saw in their travels, and only rarely did any debacles escalate too much indoors. People usually had the decency to take their business outside the tavern in exchange for a constant, quiet relationship with the tavern owners—people who were usually connected to those higher up both in and out of the law.

The leader of the pack seemed to be more offended about the fact that he had been challenged by a woman than that he had been caught bullying some boy. When the woman didn’t back down immediately, he stood, towering over her with a demeaning grin. “Of course, if you wanted something else… “

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