Blood on the Chrysanthemum
Copyright© 2026 by Megumi Kashuahara
Chapter 6: The Dealer
Historical Sex Story: Chapter 6: The Dealer - A fictional tale of the legendary female samurai Tomoe Gosen A tale of brutal revenge, forbidden love, and the true meaning of bushido. Three women will claim their freedom with sword, gold, and courage.
Caution: This Historical Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa Romantic Polygamy/Polyamory Oriental Female First Oral Sex Petting Revenge Violence
Yoshida, Mikawa Province - Same Day, Late Morning
Tanabe lived in a modest house on the eastern edge of Yoshida, close to his shop but separated enough for privacy. The kind of privacy a man needed when his business involved transactions that didn’t appear in official records.
Kiku and Miko watched the house from across the street, waiting.
“He’s alone,” Miko whispered. “His wife visits the market on Fridays. His apprentice doesn’t arrive until noon.”
“You’re certain?”
“I’ve been watching his patterns for months. My father does business with him sometimes—legitimate business,” she added quickly. “Farm tools, nothing illegal. But I’ve paid attention to his schedule.”
Kiku nodded. Miko was proving more useful than she’d expected. The merchant’s daughter knew Yoshida’s underworld better than most samurai would admit existed.
“We go in through the back,” Kiku said. “Quiet. We take him before he can call for help.”
They moved around to the rear of the house. The back door was unlocked—arrogance or carelessness, Kiku didn’t care which.
The house smelled of rice and miso soup. Morning cooking. They followed the scent to a small dining room where Tanabe sat alone, eating breakfast with his back to the door.
He was older than Kiku expected—maybe sixty, with gray hair and the soft body of a man who’d spent decades behind a counter rather than training. He wore a simple yukata, informal morning clothes.
He didn’t hear them approach.
Kiku drew Hoshi no Hikari and pressed the tip against the back of his neck. “Don’t move. Don’t speak. Nod if you understand.”
Tanabe froze, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. He nodded very carefully.
“Good. Put down the chopsticks. Hands on the table where I can see them.”
He obeyed, trembling now.
“You’re Tanabe. You sell weapons to people who don’t want official records.”
Another nod.
“Four days ago, six ninjas attacked the Fujioka estate. They came prepared—good weapons, professional equipment. Someone armed them. Was it you?”
Tanabe’s silence was answer enough.
Kiku grabbed his hair and yanked his head back, forcing him to look up at her. “I asked you a question.”
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
She drove the blade half an inch into the back of his neck. Not deep enough to kill, just deep enough to draw blood and pain. “Try again.”
“Please! I’m just a merchant! I sell farming tools!”
“And weapons to assassins.” Kiku’s voice was cold, utterly calm. “Tell me the truth, or I’ll start cutting pieces off until you do.”
Miko stood by the door, watching. Her face was pale but steady.
“I don’t—” Tanabe started.
Kiku withdrew the blade from his neck and brought it down on his left hand, severing his smallest finger in one clean cut.
Tanabe screamed.
Kiku clamped her other hand over his mouth, muffling the sound. “I said don’t speak unless I ask a question. Do you want me to take another finger?”
He shook his head desperately, tears streaming down his face, his severed finger lying on the table next to his breakfast bowl.
“Good. Now—did you sell weapons to the men who attacked my family?”
She removed her hand from his mouth.
“Yes!” The word burst out in a sob. “Yes, I sold them weapons! But I didn’t know what they were for! I swear I didn’t know they were going to kill anyone!”
“Who were they?”
“I don’t know! They didn’t give names!”
Kiku raised the blade again. “Wrong answer.”
“Wait! Wait, please!” Tanabe was hyperventilating now, staring at his bleeding hand. “I don’t know their names, but I know who sent them! The man who hired them!”
“Who?”
“Nakamura! Nakamura Hideaki! He’s a—a broker. He arranges things for people. Hires ronin, ninjas, whatever you need if you can pay.”
“Where do I find him?”
“Okazaki! He operates out of Okazaki, two days’ ride east. He has a house near the castle town, does business there.”
Kiku studied his face, looking for deception. “You’re telling me the truth?”
“Yes! I swear it! Nakamura came to me three weeks ago, said he needed weapons for a job. I sold him six sets—katana, wakizashi, throwing blades. Good quality but unmarked. That’s all I know, I swear!”
“Did he say who hired him? Who wanted my family dead?”
“No. He never does. That’s how he stays in business—discretion.”
Kiku believed him. Tanabe was too terrified to lie, too desperate to save himself.
Which meant he’d served his purpose.
She pulled Tanabe’s head back again, exposing his throat.
“Wait! I told you what you wanted! You said you’d—”
“I said I’d cut pieces off you until you talked. You talked. But I never said I’d let you live.”
Understanding dawned in his eyes. “Please—I have a wife, children—”
“My father had a daughter. My brother had a sister.” Kiku’s voice was empty of emotion. “You armed the men who killed them. You profited from their murder.”
“I didn’t know! You have to believe me, I didn’t—”
Tsuki no Kage ended his pleading. One quick slash across the throat. Clean. Efficient.
He fell forward onto the table, blood pooling around his breakfast bowl.
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