by Ryan Kirk
Without giving a warning, Shigeru pressed his thumb into a spot on Ryuu’s back. All thoughts of bearing the pain left with Ryuu’s voiceless scream. It took a couple of breaths, but he was managed to regain his composure, and when he did he could feel that his back was already feeling better. Despite the pain he was fascinated, his insatiable curiosity overwhelming his natural response.
Shigeru continued, pressing on spot after spot, each one sending new waves of pain through Ryuu’s small body. He couldn’t help but gasp each time, but when it was over Ryuu felt a lightness new to his experience. He felt like he could jump forever.
Ryuu experimented with his brand-new body by running around for a while without purpose. It was enough to enjoy the sensation of moving without pain. But his body knew things it hadn’t before. It was more balanced, more ready to strike. It wasn’t much, but it was noticeable. The elation that Ryuu felt gave him energy he hadn’t known he possessed.
Shigeru waited for Ryuu to run through his burst of excitement and newfound lightness. After Ryuu had run through his initial energy, Shigeru motioned for him to sit.
“How do you feel now?”
“Great!”
“Good.”
“How did you do that? It hurt so much, but now it feels so good. You weren’t even pressing on the spots that hurt. How does that work?”
Shigeru raised his hand to halt the flow of questions. “I will teach you everything I know, and before long you will be able to do this all on your own. Have you heard of the dayblades?”
Ryuu nodded. Everyone knew the legends of the dayblades and the nightblades. They had been two separate halves of the group of people known as the Blades, over a thousand cycles ago. Both groups had been destroyed in the Kingdom. The dayblades were healers, but everyone knew they were just as dangerous as nightblades. In the stories that Ryuu had grown up with, all the blades had been killed, but Shigeru was still here.
Shigeru continued, “Remember yesterday how I said that it is good when you notice that things feel right?”
Ryuu nodded.
“The same energy that you feel when you are in tune with your swordsmanship also applies to your own body and everything in the world. This is the very foundation of what you know as the sense. You can use this knowledge both to heal and to harm a person, but it takes cycles of practice. The dayblades are experts at using their knowledge to heal. The nightblades are experts at using their knowledge to kill.”
Shigeru paused. “The divisions aren’t as clean as the legends would have you believe. The two groups draw upon the same body of knowledge, but physically manifest their skills in different ways. That being said, a dayblade can be an excellent warrior even if they are a better healer. Likewise a nightblade can heal, as you just experienced.”
Ryuu sat and pondered what Shigeru was saying. It was different than the stories he remembered. The nightblades he knew were evil men who had destroyed the Kingdom, and the dayblades had kept them alive. If Shigeru was a nightblade that meant he was evil, but he had saved Ryuu. His thoughts running in circles, Ryuu’s confusion was evident. Shigeru saw the confusion, but didn’t guess the reasoning behind it.
“I’m not going to try to teach you about it now; you’re not ready to learn yet. But I will tell you that everything you experience, from the woods you walk through, the trees you climb and the people you meet, everything is connected. What is true of the outside world is true inside your body as well.”
As was often the case, Ryuu was lost at Shigeru’s explanation, but he filed it away for further use.
Shigeru let out one of his wide grins, the kind that made Ryuu believe, however momentarily, that this was an open man with no defenses. “Now, I see I’ve confused you again. I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to talk to someone who has only seen a handful of cycles. It wasn’t a part of any training I received. However, I do know that this pond is wonderful to swim in, and it will help your body feel even better. Care to join me?”
Without any more warning Shigeru dove into the pond, a small ripple the sole evidence of his dive.
Surprise halted him only for a moment. Ryuu jumped in, lacking the grace that Shigeru brought to his dive. The water was cold, but it felt wonderful to swim around. Shigeru splashed him, and Ryuu tried to pick him up underwater.
The two of them continued to swim for most of the afternoon, returning to the hut just in time to cook a meal before the sun came down. It was the best day Ryuu could remember having.
4
Takako had been to New Haven several times. At the age of ten she was old enough to have accompanied her parents on more than one trip. New Haven was the biggest city in the Southern Kingdom, but it was five days of travel from their home village. A trip to New Haven was for the most serious business or the greatest celebrations. This was Takako’s fifth trip into the city of unfamiliar lights and sounds.
Although Takako was ten, even the most observant bystanders would have guessed her closer to fourteen or fifteen. Her breasts were too small to be average for the age, but all other standards she met or exceeded. She was exceptionally tall for her age, towering over even her older male friends. Her father was a struggling merchant working to make ends meet in a village that didn’t have many needs. There were many mouths to feed in their house, and the business, while consistent, was not enough to put more than the minimum of food into the family’s stomachs every evening when they gathered around the table.
It was not hunger that bothered Takako. She had grown up eating little and knew little else. What she hated was not having a teacher. She was the oldest of four, but the only girl. Her judgmental father felt that there was no need to provide her with more than the basics, but even he acknowledged she was excellent at everything she put her mind to. She was gifted with both numbers and letters, but despite her recognized aptitude her father paid her no mind, focusing instead on educating his three sons. They were the children that would take over the business.
Which made this trip all the more unusual. Takako didn’t know why they had come, but her father’s demeanor made it clear to her young mind that this was a business trip. If it was a celebration he would have brought the whole family, or at least been in a good mood. But if it had been a business trip he would have brought the boys despite their lesser age and gifts. It didn’t fit Takako’s paradigms for pleasure or business, but her father had been serious the entire trip, so it had to be business. Takako was beside herself with curiosity although the thrill of being in New Haven overwhelmed her desire to barrage her father with questions.
New Haven suited Takako well. She had been born with a positive attitude, and her mother told Takako that she had come out of the womb with a smile on her face. Takako thought the story seemed a bit of an exaggeration, but she liked it anyway. She did not like the manner in which her father treated her and her mother, but there was nothing she could do about it. So she did what was required of her and looked forward to the future. When she was in New Haven she felt like the future was right in front of her, beckoning her into a warm embrace. The city was big, with room for a woman to grow. She saw women who ran businesses and tried to picture herself as one of them. She knew she was capable, she just didn’t know why nobody else would acknowledge it.
One of Takako’s most pressing questions in life was how her mother put up with being treated like less than Takako’s father. Takako knew that her mother and father had been married for over twelve cycles. Her mother was a quiet woman who possessed an inner steel that displayed itself in very rare circumstances. But to hear the neighbors talk her mother had not always been quiet. She used to be the life of the village, beautiful and full of energy. One of their neighbors once told Takako that her mother had been quick to speak her mind, even to the elders of the village, who allowed her to get away with it on account of her beauty and charm.
She was still beautiful, but cycles of marriage to Takako’s father had smothered her fire. She loved him and worked hard to keep
him happy. In the beginning it was said that their marriage had been picture perfect and the two of them were ranked among the most respected people in the community. But then the children came. Takako was first, followed by twin brothers and then one more. The business did not grow in proportion to the size of their family. What had been a comfortable existence slid into one of daily struggle. Takako’s father once had dreams, but the never-ending monotony of trying to produce enough to survive wore him down to a shadow of the man he had been.
Even Takako’s mother could not keep his spirits up. There were still days where everything seemed to be as it should. They would both smile and laugh and the children were all too willing to follow suit. But it could not last and it never did. The periods of happiness would dissipate like the morning fog leaving nothing but the cold reality of day-to-day survival.
None of the children were ever abused or neglected. Their father worked hard so they could all be fed. Their mother spent every day with her children doing her best to educate them and prepare them for their futures. They all helped with the business doing whatever they could. When they weren’t at the shop they were home cooking and cleaning. Their mother’s willingness to make her husband happy was contagious. Every evening rotated around the whims of their father. Takako’s mother became like one of the children, hanging on to his every word, trying to find a measure of his infrequent approval.
As the cycles passed, everything worsened, and life decayed like an old piece of paper. Takako’s father began gambling with some friends. Until that day he had abstained, knowing there wasn’t enough money for the family to be frivolous with any of it. But one night something changed his mind, and he adopted the belief that it was his hard-earned money to spend as he desired. He talked it over with his wife and she agreed that it might be good for him to relax with friends and do as he pleased. They ran over the numbers, and figured on a suitable amount for him to take to the halls, expecting and planning for him to lose everything. They would have to trim a couple of corners for the next few days but they figured they could make ends meet without too much difficulty.
That night Takako saw her father the happiest he had ever been. He came back flush with winnings. He brought treats for everyone and still brought home much more money than he had left with. That night the family celebrated their good fortune with an opulent meal and games. The night became forever etched in Takako’s mind: a colorful, vivid memory against a backdrop of black and white images.
The happiness of that evening lasted for a while. Both Takako’s mother and father were by nature careful spenders, and for almost a full moon the air around the house was jovial. It never reached the heights of the first night, but her parents did not seem as worried as usual and the mood was palpably more relaxed than it had been.
But Takako had been taught that all things in life travel in a great cycle, and the good fortune experienced by the family slowly returned to the day-to-day drudgery the family knew so well. The tedious struggle uncovered the same tension that had consumed the family earlier. Once again, the merchant went out to gamble, but this time it wasn’t for fun or pleasure. It was to earn money for his family. His wife tried to dissuade him, but only half-heartedly, fearful hope instilled in her as well. The joy of that night was still flush in her mind, and although part of her knew that luck didn’t visit the same person twice in the gambling halls, she wanted to believe it enough that she was willing to ignore her intuition and put her trust in her husband’s confidence.
The whole family waited up filled with expectation, but when the merchant returned, he returned with less money. It wasn’t much less. He had runs of both good and bad luck, but had quit before he lost too much. A little less money meant a little less food and a little more tension around the house. But it was manageable, and life moved forward, the great wheel slowly spinning.
The cycle continued, inevitable as the rising of the sun. Her parents started fighting more. Takako didn’t always know what was said. Her parents always argued in hushed tones at night so they wouldn’t wake or disturb the children. Takako could sometimes make out snippets of conversation, but rarely enough to put together a coherent picture of what was happening. She assumed that it was about money. She was old enough to know that her father’s business wasn’t doing as well as they needed, which was why they didn’t have very much food.
Takako wondered if all the arguing had to do with why only she and her father had come to New Haven. She didn’t understood why they were here by themselves. A visit to the city was always a big deal and usually involved the whole family. For business or celebration, everyone came together. Still, she was happy to be here, feeling special that her father had recognized her for something unique. But her father wouldn’t answer her questions. That made her nervous.
In between her excited observations of her surroundings Takako would steal glances over at her father. He smiled at her whenever he caught her looking at him, but he also seemed like he was about to cry at any minute. She didn’t understand. They had made a long journey but her father brought nothing to trade. If this was a business trip it was unlike any trip she had been on before. Instead of leading her to a specific destination her father kept asking her what she would like to do, and then they would do it. Takako tried to select activities that didn’t cost too much, but her father spent money on her without complaint. His newfound generosity scared her the most.
Takako didn’t feel like she should complain about the treatment, but it was out of character for the father she knew. Her father was by nature a frugal man. He had grown up the son of a poor merchant and couldn’t move forward his entire life despite his constant efforts. Spending money without question on his daughter was unheard of.
As the sun set her father asked her if she would like a special treat. She said yes, and they wandered until they found a small out-of-the-way candy merchant. Takako’s father looked through the candy as if it was the most important purchase he had ever made and selected one for his daughter. Takako watched, amazed by how much money her father had handed over to the merchant. He didn’t receive change.
They sat down on the side of a street, watching the passerby as Takako savored the candy. She had never eaten anything like it before, and seeing how much it had cost, she was set on making the most out of the experience. As she ate her father watched her, his eyes never leaving her face. She was so absorbed in her treat she didn’t even notice when he began to cry.
“You know, when I was a child that was my favorite candy. I don’t remember how I got it for the first time. I imagine my father bought me some on a special occasion, just as I bought it for you today. But I loved it so much that every time we came back to New Haven, I had to have a piece.”
Takako looked up at her father. “How did you get it? You didn’t have much money growing up.”
Her father looked down at her, surprised. It made Takako angry. It was as though he didn’t realize she could put things together for herself. “You saw how much it cost.” He sounded resigned, like he had known his one attempt to be secretly generous would fail. “I worked very hard for those candies. I was about the same age you are now and I worked all the time for my father. He didn’t give me very much because we didn’t have much, but he felt I should be paid like a regular employee. He thought it would teach me that hard work should be rewarded, so he always gave me a small percentage of the profits as an allowance. It was clever parenting. If I worked hard and business improved then I would earn more. If I was lazy and business dropped I didn’t earn anything. It was a good lesson,” his voice turned bitter, “even if it was a lie.”
Takako nodded She didn’t understand the last part of his thoughts, but she too had dreamed about working in the store. She wondered if her father would ever let her work in the business. She was more than old enough to help out, and often did small odds and ends, but she didn’t have anything important to do with the business. Her father used all the boys even if they were younger and du
mber. She was left tending the house with her mother. She would have loved the same treatment her father received from his father. The idea of having money of her own was very appealing.
Her father didn’t give her the chance to interrupt, continuing his story as though lost in thought. “I worked very hard and the business, while it didn’t improve too much, made enough money that I was able to save up a little. Like our family, we didn’t go to New Haven often, so by the time we would make it around to going, I almost always had enough to buy one of these candies. And every time it was the best one. It was never disappointing, not after working for it for so many seasons.”
Takako’s father laughed, a short laugh, and shook his head. “Father never did understand. He considered it a terrible waste of money, and I think he started to believe me a lost cause then. But it was worth every piece of wealth I had, just like it is today.”
Takako cocked her head to one side. It seemed like an out-of-place thing to say, and sounded ominous. The questions, driven out of her mind by the candy, came back into her thoughts.
Her father didn’t give her long to wonder. “Takako, we’re here because I had to find work for you.”
Takako’s heart leapt with sudden joy. A job meant money, and it meant she would stay here in New Haven to work. No more endless days spent tending house. She felt like a hawk escaping from the cage of her life into the bright sunlight of a new day.
“Takako, I want you to know that I’m not happy about having to find you a job here. In fact, I feel horrible. If it wasn’t for me, my failures, you wouldn’t have to work at all, and you could live with your mother and me until you found a husband, just like we’d planned. But that’s not what happened. You may hate me forever, but I want you to know I love you. I love you like I love your mother, and although neither of you will ever forgive me, please try and remember me kindly.”