The fools, the braggarts, and the noble poor having been parted from their money over the course of the past few days, the betting hall has begun to settle into its home stretch with a much leaner, hungrier, more desolate and despairing crew. Bone-weary merchants and artisans, their necks drawn thin from craning to see the future written in bone under up-turned sake cups, take deep hits from kiseru while reviewing the standings in their heads. Their eyes, however, watch each other. They are, all of them, soldiers of fortune; though no bonds of dojo or battlefield exist to bind them, they know that they are all headed to the same fate.

Kasuga Izumi sits, two koku and a note waiting.

Shiori came back but this time to do more than observe. She didn't come here to bet money on the results but she supposed she was still here to bet nevertheless.

She bowed politely to greet Izumi when she saw her sitting with her koku. "Good afternoon, Kasuga-sama. I hope the day has been treating you well?"

"So far, Kuni-san," Izumi says. "Looks like there's a Doji going to be out of luck, unless something quite strange happens."

Shiori nodded begrudgingly at Doji Hikaru's impressive showing in the contest, this coupled with Daichi's middling score. "It seems that at least one Doji is doing very well in this contest. I'm not so sure Doji-san will be so easily beaten here."

"He was impressive," Izumi replies. "But the contest is only halfway done."

She takes a drink of her drink. "It's possible that one or both of the others won't be able to keep his saddle."

"It is possible..." she said with reservation on the matter. While she didn't have much hope in the contest, it was likely best to wait for all the chickens to hatch before counting them. That was a heimen saying, wasn't it? "It would seem to be in poor taste to wish someone a dismal showing. They have likely gotten this far with some intention to win."

"I didn't say I wished it on anyone, Kuni-san," Izumi replies. "I simply note that such things can and do happen. Hiruma-san might yet advance."

It was then the door swung open wide to admit none other than Gusai Rioshida, Lord of the Mantis. "Bookie!" He said firmly. "5 koku on Shosuro Asakaze." And five gold coins are slammed down on the bar. Rioshida looks around the room, somehow looking down on all within in spite of not being all that tall.

"A moment, Kuni-san," Izumi says.

Then she walks over, places her own stack of koku on the table, and doubles it, looking Rioshida right in the eye as she does so.

"Too high a mast for you to handle?" she asks, archly.

Rioshida says nothing, but reaches into his pocket and slams 15 further gold coins on the bar, a sneer on his face.

"Is that all?"

Izumi matches his wager--now 20 koku--and adds another five to the pile.

"Must have been a hard season for you."

"Such spite, Kasuga-san." Rioshida replied, slapping a further 10 coins on the table. "You better watch it; they say it makes your face crack. Wouldn't want the outside to match what's hidin' inside, would we?"

"Who's hiding?" Izumi asks sweetly as she matches the bet, leaving a total of 60 koku on the table between them.

It's more money than many will see in a lifetime, and it's sitting there as if pocket change for the two of them.

"All of my shipments will pass inspection."

"Hnh," Rioshida replies. "We'll see."

"Oh, don't be so sour," Izumi replies.

A runner arrives, announcing events.

Izumi turns to face the announcer, eyes wide.

Gusai Rioshida blanches. "What!! A fall!?" He turns to Izumi. "If I find your hand in this, Kasuga-san...."

Izumi straightens.

"My hand?" she asks, incredulous. "For all we know, it's some damned false flag! And we all know what kind of person flies that kind of banner."