Samurai 2.0 - Destiny: A Harem Fantasy Adventure

by April O'Malley

  “How did you know I'd already be here?” he asked.

  Kiso grinned. “I didn't.” Pulling a large package from a knapsack, Kiso offered it to Akio. “But I brought buns just in case.”

  The pair sat down on the grass and began to eat. Akio loved the buns that Kiso's mother made. He never really wanted to admit that they were better than the ones he had at home – but they were. After the buns were devoured, Kiso turned to him. “So, how are things with training?”

  Akio frowned. “I hate it. It's so boring. I don't care about meeting other lords or their yucky daughters.”

  Kiso laughed. “You have no problem meeting me.”

  “You're not a yucky daughter of a stuck up lord,” Akio replied, sticking his tongue out.

  Kiso blushed. “But I am a daughter. Do you not worry about what will happen if others find out?”

  Akio shook his head. “No. I don't worry because you are too good at being a boy!” He reached over and shoved Kiso so that she fell backwards slightly, and then launched himself up, ready to fight. Before Kiso could get to her feet and draw her sword, her name rang out through the woods.

  Kiso closed her eyes momentarily and sighed. “I can't get away for even a minute anymore.”

  Akio put his sword away. “I guess I should get back too.”

  Kiso's name rang out again and it was clear it was her father this time. “Oh no,” Kiso shrieked lightly. “We cannot let him find us here together.” She pointed down one path. “I'll go this way, you go that way.” The pair quickly left company as the sounds of Kiso's name got closer. This was their secret place and they didn't want any adults finding it.

  Akio heard Kiso reach her father and heard the tones of Kiso being scolded for leaving the house. Akio felt bad for Kiso. Kiso could never be who she wanted to be because her father insisted that she be a boy. With no male heirs, her father's name would die out unless he found another wife or concubine that would carry one. But her father was a horrible man, ugly inside and out, so Akio knew that would never happen.

  Akio made his way into the town below and walked slowly through the streets as they came alive around him. In the center of town, a delightful smell wafted to his nostrils and he followed it. It led him to the door of an eatery that he had been in a few times with his father. He pushed on the door and it opened, so he went inside.

  The small place was already lit for the day, a warm fire crackling in the corner, food roasting and boiling over it. By the fire stood the woman who ran the place, Toyoshi Satomi, who had been a friend of the family for a very long time. She was a bit startled to find anyone in her place so early in the morning, much less the heir to the daimyo. However, she smiled a warm smile at Akio and said good morning.

  “What brings you in here at this early hour, Akio?” she asked and looked around behind him. “Where is your father?”

  Akio grinned. “I'm by myself,” he proudly stated.

  “You are, are you?” She wiped her hands on a rag and came over to the counter where he stood. He hoisted himself up on one of the stools and she poured him a glass of fresh milk. “Here you go,” she said as she pushed it toward him. “Have you eaten yet?”

  He nodded. “I had a couple of buns this morning.”

  She looked at him for a moment. “Are you still hungry?”

  He nodded vigorously. “Always hungry! And whatever you're cooking smells amazing.”

  She grinned at the compliment, her elegant face wrinkling at the eyes and the corners of her mouth as she did so. “Well then, I'll get you some.” She took a bowl and spooned it full of the amazing concoction that had been boiling in the pot. “Be careful now, it's hot.”

  Suddenly, something that was hanging on the wall caught the eye of Akio. It was a sash that looked exactly like the one his father wore. “What is that?” he asked. She turned to look at what he was pointing at, but he felt that she already knew what he was asking about.

  “Ah, that,” she said. “Well, your grandfather gave that to me a very long time ago.” She gently pulled the sash off of its hooks and laid it on the counter by Akio. “We were very close once.” Sadness pooled in her eyes and Akio had to look away before his did the same. He carefully touched the sash. As he did, he noticed that there were strange stains on the fabric.

  “What made these marks?” he asked.

  She smiled and sighed. “One day, when you're a bit older, I'll share the tale with you. Now eat up and I'll take you home.”

  After he wolfed down his meal, Satomi escorted him to the gates of his family home where the guards were surprised and a bit frightened to discover that he had already gotten out of the compound. They rushed them through the gates faster than Akio had ever seen them. Satomi walked with him up to the door of his home, and as they reached the last step, the door flew open and his mother appeared.

  “Akio,” she almost screamed. “Where have you been?” She grabbed him tightly, hugging him. He suddenly felt bad.

  “I just went for a walk, mother. I'm fine,” he replied from the squished folds of her robes.

  Satomi spoke up. “He was just walking in town and came into my eatery. I made sure he was okay and he's eaten a good breakfast, I assure you.”

  His mother looked up. “Thank you so much, Satomi,” she said, bowing lightly. “One day, I wish you would take up the offer to come and cook here for us. I do so miss your meals.”

  Akio thought this was strange. His mother knew Satomi as well? He made a mental note that he would ask about this later. But in the meantime, he was now being rushed inside and straight to classes with his advisers that he so dreaded. He looked back to wave goodbye to Satomi, who smiled and waved in return.

  ***

  Once home, Kiso knew that she was in for a scolding—and more—as her father shut the door to her room. “Kiso, you know better than to leave the house alone that early in the day,” he said, spitting the words out. “What if someone else had found you? Robbers? Older boys who are up to no good? You already bring shame upon me, why would you want to tempt fate to provide more failure and disgrace?” He flung his hands out over his head, not really wanting an answer from her.

  He stepped closer very quickly, and Kiso braced herself for the blows that were sure to come. But instead, her father grabbed a swatch of her hair that had fallen loose as he jerked her back to their home. “Look at this!” he yelled. “If people saw this, they would wonder. That is it! I am finished with this! You will not bring shame upon this house! You will be a boy! You will act like a boy! You will train like a boy! And you will look like a boy!”

  He pulled out a large knife, and Kiso began to cry and squeezed her eyes shut. She wondered how the knife would feel as the cold blade entered her chest. However, she heard the sawing sounds of hair instead. She opened her eyes and looked down, watching her beautiful dark hair cascading to the floor around her. She stood as still as stone until her father finished. Every last bit of hair was gone; he had shaved it down to the skin. The whiteness of her bald head was a startling contrast to her lightly tanned face.

  Her father snickered, pleased with himself. “Now, you look like a boy. Cover that bald head and don't you ever let me catch you outside this house without permission again!” He stormed out of the room, ripping a part of the beautiful door in the process.

  Kiso fell to her knees and began to cup the fallen locks in her hands. Tears mingled with the lost hair as she sat there on her floor, sobbing. She heard a small sound at the door and looked up, praying it was not her father returning with more punishment. Instead, it was her mother, who stood barely in the doorway, a blank look in her eyes as she tried to take in what her daughter now looked like. She blinked a few times and then turned away, tears on her cheeks.

  All Kiso ever wanted was for her mother to love her, to hug her, to defend her against her father. But that moment never came. This was proof that it would never ever come either. Kiso had to be strong, stronger than anyone
else, so that one day, she could stand up to her father.

  She scooped the hair up into a pile and picked it up to deposit it in the waste. As she did so, she took one lock of hair from the top of the pile and found a dainty green ribbon to tie it with. She then secured the ribbon around her neck and vowed to herself that she would always keep the lock to remind her of what she must do.

  ***

  Asas wiped his brow. Even the cool spring time air wasn't a match for working in the gardens. He looked up to see the boy staring off at something unseen. The look on the child's face bothered him slightly. “What are you watching, Ratnakar?” he asked as he stood and dusted off his hands, moving over to the boy.

  The child remained quiet but pointed out over the walls of the monastery, where the town below could be seen in the distance. “Yes, what about the town?” Asas asked.

  The boy paused, considering what to say. “Well,” the child said, “do you think my mother thinks about me?”

  The question broke Asas' heart in two. “I am sure that she does, child.” He laid a hand gently on the boy's shoulder. Ratnakar had been at the monastery for over eight months now and had never once talked about his family or his life before. “I am sure that she felt bringing you here would be the best thing for you.” He glanced down at the boy who looked nothing like the shell of the child that had appeared outside the gates so long ago. This new child was healthy-looking, his face tanned from working in the sun, his arms and legs full of life once more… yet, for a strange reason, his eyes remained dull.

  “I hate her,” Ratnakar said quickly, spitting slightly as he did so.

  Asas was taken aback. “What?”

  Ratnakar looked up at him, eyes filled with pure hatred. “I said I hate her. I hope that she is dead.” His small lips snarled into a scowl that caused the heat to fully flee from Asas' body. The monk shivered. “I hope that she has suffered,” the boy continued. “And I hope she is rotting somewhere.”

  Asas had no idea what to say. He simply stood there, afraid to take his hand from the boy's shoulder and afraid to look away. The boy moved his eyes from the monk back down to the city. He made small noises with his mouth. “What are you saying?” Asas asked.

  “I'm pretending the town is exploding,” the boy replied calmly, his small hands moving around as if throwing fire themselves as he continued to make the sounds.

  “Why would you say something like that? We should never wish harm on others, Ratnakar.”

  Again, the boy's eyes chilled him as they swung up to meet his. “I don't care. I don't want them to be alive down there.”

  Asas had enough. He wasn't going to allow his protégé to continue down that path. He had only imagined that the boy had a rough life before he came here, but this was terrible, even to his older ears. “Ratnakar,” the man said, turning the child so that he would no longer be looking at the town. However, Ratnakar pivoted his head as his body moved so that he continued to watch the town below engulfed in a pretend fire of his making. “We do not wish ill on others. It is not right. Fate and karma will do the bidding of themselves. We do not have to meddle in their affairs. Do you understand?”

  The boy finally returned his gaze on him. “What is fate and karma?” he asked, intrigued.

  “Come, I'll tell you about them,” Asas said, and he led the boy away from the gardens and toward one of the learning buildings. He must try and fix this quickly so that the boy did not keep on dwelling on such thoughts. As they walked, the boy continued to look off toward the town, but he stopped making his strange noises; instead, he smiled a tiny, eerie smile.

  When they reached the building, Asas sat Ratnakar down at a large table and went to the bookshelf. He plucked an older book from one of the higher shelves and brought it to him. Together, they went through the book and Asas taught the boy about fate and karma, two things that the boy found extremely fascinating. He asked questions that Asas was forced to seriously consider. Finally, Asas had to retrieve a piece of paper and ink to write them down for some of the elder monks. After several hours, Asas realized that it was past lunch and closed the book, an action that did not please Ratnakar.

  “I want to keep learning about fate and karma!” he insisted, slamming his fist on the table.

  “I am sorry, Ratnakar,” Asas said as he replaced the book on the high shelf. “It is time to get some nourishment. Let us go eat, and I will see if we can find answers to some of your questions.” The thought of having answers pleased the boy and he agreed to go, but continued to look up at the book on the shelf.

  Throughout the day, Asas tried to keep Ratnakar's mind busy, teaching him different concepts about how to treat others fairly, the ways of the world, and more. But Ratnakar's questions kept returning to fate and karma, no matter how hard Asas tried. Asas was relieved when the sun finally began to disappear below the horizon. He took the boy to his room and tucked him in, telling him they would continue his learning tomorrow. Ratnakar agreed and rolled over, his small face towards the wall, pulling the blanket up around his neck.

  “Good night, Ratnakar,” Asas said as he turned to leave the room. The boy did not reply. Asas closed the door and composed himself slightly before continuing down the hallway. After a couple of turns, he reached the elder monk's door and knocked slightly.

  “Yes?” came the voice from inside.

  “It's Asas. I am sorry it is so late, but I must speak with you.”

  “Is it about the boy?” the other replied from behind the closed door.

  Asas sighed heavily. “Yes. Yes it is.”

  “Come in, Asas.”

  The monk pushed the door open and entered the room, closing the door behind him. Yagnakaya sat cross-legged on an ancient mat that he slept upon, his thin hands poised perfectly in his lap, his eyes closed.

  “Tell me about today,” Yagnakaya said.

  Asas sat and positioned himself, taking a couple of deep breaths. Then he recounted the happenings of the day, right up to tucking the boy into bed for the night. “His eyes, Yagnakaya, his eyes are devoid of emotion for one so young.”

  The other man was quiet for a time, but looked intently at Asas. Finally, he spoke. “Let me see the questions.” Asas pulled the folded paper from a pocket and handed them over. The older man studied the writing carefully, then folded the paper and placed it in his lap. “I will have answers in the morning for the child.”

  “What about the book? The learning? Should I continue? Or should I try to steer the child's mind toward calmer things?” Asas inquired with a worried tone in his voice.

  The other man smiled slightly. “Changing the mind of an intent child is like changing the will of the river. It cannot be done.” He sighed. “All of us were once children with obsessions, Asas. Every single one of us. Tomorrow, take the boy back to the library and allow him to learn anything he wishes. If he craves more knowledge, bring him to the ancient library and I will teach him all I can. Allow him to learn, to grow, in this knowledge he seeks. Only then will he be open to other teachings.”

  Asas sighed. “You are right, as always, Yagnakaya. Thank you.” He stood to leave.

  “However,” the older monk said, “the boy's aura is dark and cloudy. I fear that even with all of the knowledge and training we can offer, there is something inside of him that cannot be fixed here on Earth.” The older man looked deep into Asas' eyes. “You need to prepare yourself for the idea that he may not want to be saved, Asas.”

  Asas nodded slightly and opened the door. He already knew this exact feeling deep in his heart; he already knew that the boy may be a lost cause. But he would be damned as well if he stopped trying. He moved silently down the hallways, back to the boy's room. When he opened the door, he found the boy had vanished.

  At first, he was alarmed, but then he knew exactly where the boy had gone. Asas returned to the library and found that the door was ajar. Peeking inside, he saw that the boy had climbed the shelves to reach the book they h
ad been studying earlier. A single candle had been lit and the boy was quietly going through the pages, looking at the drawings, the charts. Asas decided to leave him be for the night and retreated to a bench nearby the door. He settled in, crossed his legs and folded his hands to meditate.

  The call of a bird woke Asas just before dawn. He arose and went to the door, noticing that the candle was no longer lit. At the table still sat the boy, his face lain across the book, sound asleep. Asas' mouth smiled slightly and then turned into a frown. He was in for a long, hard road with this one, and he feared all of it would be for nothing.

  Chapter Three

  In the summer of his sixteenth year, Akio found himself to be much different from the wild-eyed child he had once been. He and Kiso had the run of the town, they could do no wrong, and Kiso spent more time at his manor house than at her own home. While her father did not approve, Akio's father made it clear that Kiso was in training and needed to be there as much as possible.

  Akio also found his friendship growing with Satomi in leaps and bounds. He regarded her as his other grandmother now, even calling her that in an honorary fashion, to which she always smiled deeply. He found himself fully addicted to her cooking and had finally convinced her to come and cook for them. A move that his grandmother at home did not seem to care for. It was clear that the two women had problems between them, and Akio did not want to inquire.

  A few days before his sixteenth birthday, he was having breakfast with Satomi in the kitchen, very early in the morning. They were the only two awake and were once again speaking of his grandfather. He adored the tales that Satomi told about the man he had only known as an old warrior. In her eyes, however, he was a poet, an artist, a master swordsmith, and so much more. She paused and took a sip of her hot tea, leaning back slightly, a coy look on her face.

  “I think that it is time you knew the tale of your father's sword, Akio,” Satomi said all of a sudden.