by C. J. Anaya
Musubi wrapped a playful arm around Akane, leaving me feeling slightly jealous. “I never brood, nor do I have moods. Now, what are you doing here, Akane? Planning to watch our training session? Or are you feeling rusty and in need of some review?”
Akane spun under Musubi’s arm. “I promised myself I would never suffer another one of your torturous training sessions, Musubi, and I meant it. She’s all yours.” Akane nodded toward me and then gave me a wink. She sprinted to her horse, leaping upon it quickly and barreling away as if she were afraid he might force her to stay and participate.
“I’ll be over here, Mikomi, reading my life away.” Kenji patted my arm and turned toward a broken building that looked as if it might offer some considerable shade. He lifted a small satchel from the earth and gingerly moved away.
I had tried to avoid eye contact with Musubi ever since his approach, knowing full well I would become flustered and crippled by my emotional and physical response to him, but it couldn’t be helped as he walked closer and then stood right before me. I met his gaze with trepidation.
He misunderstood the reason for my look when he let out a mischievous chuckle and said, “You are right to fear this session, Mikomi, for I have no intention of going easy on you.” His gaze traveled the length of me, and my body shivered in response. “After all,” he continued, placing a warm hand at my waist, “Akane did say you were all mine.”
Now both of his hands were at my waist, pulling me closer as I fought to contain my response to him. He gave me one last lingering look before a naughty glint pierced his eye. Before I knew what was happening, my kimono had been unwrapped, stripped from my person, and thrown to the floor at my feet. My black body suit hugged my curves. I felt heat creep up my neck and blossom along my face.
He surveyed me with immense satisfaction as I sputtered for some kind of reprimand. His emotions, for once, were void of the anger I was so used to. “I tell you, Mikomi, I could live to see a thousand more moons and never ever tire of ripping your clothes off.” He took in my fierce expression and let out a boisterous laugh.
Little did he know, a part of me would never tire of it either.
“Today we are going to take a small break from your katana and focus on methods you can use for self-defense if ever you must go hand to hand with your enemy,” Musubi said as we stood facing one another. “I hope there will never be a situation in which I am not there to protect you, but if such occasion should arise, you must be prepared not only to be on the offensive but on the defensive as well.”
He paused for a moment, and I nodded that I understood. He continued, “Mastering fighting techniques can be a long, grueling process because most people are unable to tune in to their own inner energy or ki.”
My ears pricked at this. “What do you mean exactly?”
“Many individuals are unable to recognize that the art of defending oneself is not simply a physical show of prowess, but more importantly a mental one. Your ki, the most powerful part of your true self, rests within your hara or center, and your center,” he said, coming closer and resting his hand against my lower abdomen, “is just two inches below the navel. This is also your center of gravity.”
I swallowed hard as the warmth of his hands seeped through my thin undergarment. He must have felt the heat as well. I felt a sharp emotional shock pulse through him, and then he rapidly pulled his hand away. He seemed to need a moment to recover himself before he could speak, and he avoided making eye contact with me. I was relieved. I was sure if he had wanted to, he would have found my feelings for him written all over my face.
“It is important that we fuse both physical and mental energies together, and bridge that gap between mind and body so that both are working harmoniously with one another. It is a difficult thing for many to do, but it’s necessary if you are to master total control.” He took two steps back and faced me, finally looking at me, his face an indifferent mask. “To develop the mental skills necessary for controlling your body you must work on a process called centralization. You must focus on the subjective at first. Any troubles you are experiencing or worries and problems you have yet to resolve will be looked at dispassionately, almost as if you are viewing them from behind a screen. They are present but separate. I want you to close your eyes, think of one problem you have yet to resolve, and consider it without allowing it to affect your emotions.”
I did as he asked, and the first problem to pop into my mind dealt solely with my father. I wanted his love and acceptance and had never found a way to earn it. The memories brought pain and bitterness to my heart, but I did my best to push those feelings aside and look at my problem subjectively.
From an outsider’s point of view, one would look at the situation and recognize that the emperor had never been interested in being a father but in gaining power. I was a pawn. I had already acknowledged this time and time again, but the fact remained it ate at me and my own feelings of self-worth.
However, to look at it dispassionately, I realized that all of those years I spent seeking approval had been wasted on a man who had never sought for my love and approval in the first place, but who relished in the power and control he had over me and everyone else in his life. It made no sense to feel worthless when my father’s idea of worth was based upon the amount of power he held within his hands.
I had never been strong enough, capable enough or honorable enough in his eyes, but for all the things I valued and the characteristics I treasured, my own beliefs, actions and character, by definition, made me strong enough, capable enough and more than honorable enough to be The Healer.
I am The Healer, and my father is not.
The moment I accepted my own identity and worth I felt a strange clarity click into place. I opened my eyes and looked at Musubi as he studied me with a commanding intensity. I wasn’t sure how he knew that I was ready, but this connection between us might have had something to do with it.
“Very good,” he said. “It usually takes students much longer to accomplish that first step. Now, the next type of centralization is objective. You’ve centered yourself internally, and now you must keep a clear and centered view of what is happening around you. You must be as impartial with circumstances surrounding you as you are with the internal conflict you just dealt with. For example,” he held his arms out presenting himself, “what do you see when you look at me?”
I narrowed my eyes, wondering if this was a trick question. I couldn’t respond the way I wanted to. It wouldn’t have been appropriate to tell Musubi that I saw a handsome warrior, deeply troubled by his past. I couldn’t tell him I saw a man I wished to love and take care of, a man whose future could be bright if he allowed me to heal what, within his past, had been broken.
I self-consciously cleared my throat as I realized I had been staring for far too long without giving a response.
“I see a tall, armed man.”
Musubi pulled his sword from his saya and crouched forward with the sword held above his head. “And if a man such as I were to come at you with a sword, what would you see?”
I swallowed. “I would see a wicked blade, an intimidating aggressor and a skilled warrior I couldn’t possibly overcome.”
Musubi dropped his stance and pointed his sword to the ground. “I am merely an object in motion, Mikomi. No matter my size, strength or intimidating presence, an object in motion can always be effectively neutralized so long as you do not allow what you may perceive as threatening to hypnotize your mind and emotions. Without the power of your mind you cannot efficiently direct the power of your body. Your thoughts and perceptions cannot be affected by how I appear. You remain centralized so when an opponent attacks you, you can maintain impartiality, recognizing that your aggressor is simply an object in motion.”
“Are you telling me you’re not an intimidating figure when brandishing a sword?” I was trying to tease him and lighten the mood. For some reason this session felt more emotionally charged than the others had, though it
was less physical in nature. I was uncomfortable with Musubi’s direct look constantly piercing my faked indifference toward him. There was a strange tension building between us, and I wanted to scream as loudly as possible in order to break it.
Musubi’s lips quirked into a smile. “I will always be an intimidating figure, but it is my job to train you to look past all that.”
“And what do you see when you look at me?” I teased again. I bent low into the same position he had and brandished my imaginary sword.
“A beautiful, capable woman.” He said it without a pause, and based on his emotional response to hearing his own words, he wasn’t very happy with himself. Still, he kept his eyes on mine.
I slowly stood. Bringing my arms to my sides, I tried for another joke. “Well, with that glowing recommendation, I certainly won’t be intimidating anyone on the battlefield.”
Musubi dropped his sword and approached me. His frustration with himself and his reaction toward me was palpable at this point. He couldn’t seem to find his own center, and his guard remained lowered, unleashing his intense feelings. It felt as if he closed the distance between us against his will, like some invisible line had connected us both, reeling him forward despite his own internal battle. He placed a hand at my waist, and lifted the other to softly brush a strand of hair from my forehead.
“On the contrary,” he said in a hoarse voice, “there is nothing in this world more intimidating than a beautiful, capable woman.”
My breathing felt slightly labored as the emotions we were both trying to repress began to intensify. My feet stayed firmly glued to the grassy blanket beneath me, but I wanted to turn and run away before this unbearably charged tension between us overcame my good sense, forcing me to lose all inhibitions and throw myself into his arms.
Musubi’s wall had crumbled, and he was like an open book now. He couldn’t have thrown up any walls against my empathic abilities even if he had wanted to, and I was grateful—grateful to know that I wasn’t the only one who felt this pull, this overwhelming connection we shared. Grateful to know I wasn’t the only one affected by our time spent together. It was knowledge I never would have gleaned otherwise, not with Musubi’s ability to become cold and indifferent.
He fought it, though. His desire for me became overshadowed by a dark anger that seemed to penetrate whatever light our connection brought to the surface. I knew the exact moment when that anger snapped our connection in half because Musubi was able to take a step back, and my ki cringed at the backlash our severed connection produced.
It felt as if a great knife had hollowed out my insides as Musubi abruptly turned from me and walked back to his sword. He bent forward, picked it up and then kept his back to me while he sheathed it. He continued facing the other way, and I saw the exaggerated rise and fall of his shoulders as he took several deep breaths. Once he turned around to face me, his wall was up and his mask firmly in place.
I had no idea if I would be able to dislodge it again.
“Once you have found your center, you are ready to focus your own inherent energy or ki. Your inner energy is an extension of your will and ability to neutralize an attack. I wish I could tell you that you won’t have to injure or possibly kill anyone who may attack you. This is war, and the emperor’s men will kill you if given the chance, but it is more important for you to subdue your attacker and evade the ensuing confrontation altogether. The extension of your ki will play a very large part in your ability to do so.”
I did my best to focus on what Musubi was saying, but I was still reeling from everything left unexplored and unsaid between us.
“I want you to stand straight and tall, but relaxed, allowing the weight of your upper body to descend naturally. Focus on that weight being maintained at your core in your lower abdomen, and keep still as you find your center. It matters very little how long it takes for you to achieve this so long as you do.”
“How will I know when I have found this balance within myself?” I asked, feeling confused, overwhelmed, and affected by his presence.
“You’ll know when you no longer feel the need to ask.”
I wasn’t happy with his evasive answer, but I closed my eyes and focused on relaxing my upper body, finding my center and focusing on that one spot within me. I considered Musubi’s speech of impartiality, a dispassionate look at my own life’s crumbling circumstances, and knew at that moment I needed to rein in my emotions where Musubi was concerned or I would never accomplish the task he had just set before me.
I wasn’t sure how long I stood, perfectly still, focused on one point within myself where my own ki’s energy pooled together, but I soon heard Musubi’s voice as if from a great distance giving me more instruction.
“I want you to draw a thin stream of air through your nose, and allow it to fill the whole of you before exhaling out.”
I did as I was told, and for several minutes I felt as if I were in my own world where nothing could penetrate my focus and clarity.
I heard Musubi’s voice, again from a great distance. “Open your eyes, Mikomi, and tell me what you see.”
I opened them slowly and wondered if Musubi had placed a dark cloth over my eyes. It took me a moment to realize the sun had set completely, and we were blanketed in darkness with only the light from the moon giving me any sense of where I stood. I couldn’t believe so much time had passed when it felt as if I had only been meditating for mere minutes.
I scanned the darkness, searching for my teacher, and found him standing next to me.
“How much time has passed?” I asked.
“Four hours, Mikomi.” He sounded angry, but I failed to understand why until he spoke again. “Never, in my entire life have I ever had a student find their center and focus their ki as quickly as you have. Your ability is almost inhuman.”
My thoughts raced for some kind of logical explanation. “I’m a woman of medicine, Musubi. It is important for me to understand the energies surrounding myself and the person with whom I am treating. This is merely a natural extension of what I already do.”
I waited, hoping my explanation might be sufficient. My eyes were nearly blinded as a torch was lit. Musubi stuck it in a hole on one of the broken buildings. He then returned, looking troubled and pensive.
“Are you really going to berate me for exceeding your expectations?” I asked, arching my eyebrow at him.
He looked startled for a moment, and then a slow smile spread across his face. “I suppose I should be used to it by now, little healer.”
I gave him an answering smile in return. “Perhaps you do not give your teaching methods enough credit.”
He took my hand in his and softly rubbed his thumb against the inside of my wrist. I decided right then and there that finding my center was going to be an invaluable technique whenever I found myself in his presence.
“Or perhaps you’re more capable than either of us supposed.” The torchlight glinted against the frosty blue of his eyes.
“And this troubles you, Musubi?”
“More than you could possibly know.” He lifted my wrist to his lips and softly kissed it before releasing me. “We shall continue our training tomorrow. Goodnight, little healer.” He disappeared before I could overcome my shock at the affection he had demonstrated. I stood in the torchlight, unwilling to leave this brave new world I had joined, this part of my life that had become so important to me. I wanted to stay in those ruins with Musubi for the rest of my life, forget about my heavy burdens and responsibilities as the only individual on this earth capable of foiling the plans of a powerful demon god.
I stared at the flickering flames of the torchlight as it created intricate shadows against the stone wall, and my eyes filled with unshed tears. I didn’t allow them to fall, however. Instead, I turned my back on the flames consuming the torch-wood and found Kenji and my guards waiting patiently to accompany me home.
“Your body cannot create new life if your own life is so sorely depleted,” I said
as I examined my new patient in Daiki’s tavern. She was a young girl, fifteen at most, and suffering from what most of my father’s subjects suffered, a severe lack of food. Her body could not produce enough nutrients and hormones to continue with her pregnancy. There were many things I could do with my gift, but I couldn’t create nutrition out of thin air.
I did my best to strengthen the mother’s bodily functions and that of her baby’s and then handed her several coins, instructing her to use them to buy what she would need in order to feed herself and her child.
She gave me a grateful hug and left the tavern through the back door. I stared after her and worried about her future and that of her unborn child.
“You cannot save everyone, Mikomi,” Daiki said as he sat down next to me.
“Daiki, I’m The Healer. Technically, the only thing I’m supposed to do is save everyone.” I rubbed my tired eyes with the back of my hand. I had slept fitfully the night before, even with Aiko’s sleeping draught. Visions of Musubi and Katsu at war with one another stayed with me all throughout the night, and my day had not gone much better.
Katsu’s sword had notified him of a weakening in the veil far away from our location, and he had departed immediately, leaving a brief note explaining his departure. I couldn’t understand why his failure to visit me to bid me farewell should irk me so when I didn’t have feelings for him.
My training with Musubi had consisted of more meditation. I think it was his way of preventing us from having further discussions or maintaining eye contact for any length of time. He was determined to keep me at arm’s length during our entire session. It left me feeling dissatisfied and irritable.
“Were you able to leave the palace easily?” Daiki asked.
“Yes. With Katsu gone and my father visiting dignitaries in a different part of the province, I have no one who might unexpectedly demand my presence.” I turned to study my friend, noting the dark circles under his eyes. “Daiki, you look tired. Is everything well with you and your family?”