by Ryan Kirk
Ryuu’s meditation also revealed other interesting information. There were four men following them, in a depression out of sight. They intended violence. Ryuu stood up and informed Shigeru. He nodded. He had already known. Ryuu berated himself for becoming so distracted that he didn’t notice bandits.
“They are waiting for the storm to set in and then attack. It’s common for bandits. It makes it more difficult for survivors to reach safety and makes them almost impossible to track after.”
A wave of fear washed over Ryuu which he fought to control with rationality. Memories of his mother and the blood threatened to overwhelm him. It was just like when he was five. But this was what he had trained for. Shigeru had assured him over and over again he was strong. But doubt and fear assailed him. Not even Shigeru’s presence calmed him as the storm came in.
Ryuu thought of Takako, unjustly held in a house of prostitution. His fear dissipated. If he couldn’t protect her, what good was he? It was time to know. He collected his gear and continued on his way as the snow came blowing in.
Shigeru followed, pleased with this decision. Ryuu asked if Shigeru could find their way home even through a storm, and Shigeru replied in the affirmative. Ryuu tried to draw strength from Shigeru’s calm. If nothing else, he had Shigeru here to protect him.
The snow and wind reduced visibility to a few dozen paces. Ryuu found the lack of sight didn’t bother him much. He could feel the bandits starting to approach closer, preparing to make their move. When they finally appeared in front of Shigeru and Ryuu, Ryuu was glad the wait was over.
As the four shadows materialized Ryuu noticed that Shigeru made no attempt to get his sword ready. The message was clear. This fight was Ryuu’s. Ryuu focused and sensed it wasn’t entirely true. Shigeru was ready to spring, but was trying to create the impression it was Ryuu’s fight.
Fair enough. As he surveyed his enemies a flicker of fear sparked to life. There were four, all much larger than Ryuu. They looked like they had killed before. There was no joy, just the grim determination of survival on their faces. He tried to focus, but he couldn’t quite push away the thought of his mother dying in a storm much like this. It threatened to overwhelm his thoughts and focus.
No words were exchanged, and the conflict was decided in an instant. Ryuu sensed the movement of the bandit on his far left and the near simultaneous response of his partner far to the right. There was no honor or fairness in this fight. All four were moving for Ryuu, planning to kill him and move to Shigeru, four versus one as often as they could.
The movements snapped Ryuu back in sync with his sense. Without thought he knew where each cut would come from and where it was aimed. He knew where to strike and saw the entire battle unravel even before his sword was drawn. All that was left to do was act, and Shigeru’s training had been comprehensive in that regard.
The next conscious thought Ryuu had was that he was unharmed. No blade had come close to him and the four bandits were dying or dead on the ground around him. Ryuu slowly looked around, taking it all in and realizing what had happened. He looked down at his hands and saw them holding a bloody sword.
His power sickened him. The bandits never had a chance against the skills he had developed. He had believed on the day he actually had to use his skills it would be a noble contest, but instead it just seemed unfair. It was too easy to take a human life. It had taken just a couple of movements and four men no longer walked the cycle on this planet. These men probably had families, people that cared for them, and they had been killed by a boy without a thought. Ryuu clutched his sword as he knelt to the ground and threw up.
When he was done, he noticed Shigeru hadn’t moved at all. He hadn’t said anything. The only hint he wasn’t a statue was he was no longer close to drawing his own sword. Ryuu looked desperately at Shigeru, pleading for some form of absolution, some comfort that would make the world make sense again.
Shigeru returned his look without flinching. “If I were to tell you it was self-defense, it would be true. They attacked us first and made a choice with consequences. But this is also a lesson I cannot teach. At the setting of the sun you are one of the most powerful warriors in the Three Kingdoms. I know only a handful who are your equal. The power I’ve helped you develop is yours to use. It can be a force for good, where you protect those who need protecting from evil men, or it can be evil when you use your power for selfish reasons. That power, your strength, is only a tool. How you decide to wield it will determine the type of man you will become. The only person who can make that decision is you.”
So much for comfort.
Shigeru wasn’t quite finished. “While these men did attack us, you always have a choice. You could have let them kill you. I don’t want to ever see you hide behind false justifications. You always have a choice. Today you made one.”
Ryuu knelt in the gathering snow, attempting to make sense of it all. In time, Ryuu’s forces of habit took over and he cleaned his blade and sheathed it. He stood up and Shigeru led him towards an abandoned cabin for the night. Ryuu was completely inside himself, and if not for Shigeru’s guidance would have been lost and unaware. He could have been beaten by a child with a kitchen knife. Shigeru got them both inside as the storm picked up in intensity.
While Ryuu recovered, Shigeru found an old and dry wood pile and built up a small, warm fire they sat next to. Shigeru sat silently, offering his company as Ryuu came to terms with what he was capable of. Ryuu had always dreamed of being a strong warrior, but in the company of Shigeru, he hadn’t realized just how strong he had become. Until today, it had been an academic exercise to see who he could beat by trying to sense their strength. He had no idea he’d become so strong he could kill four men without breaking a sweat.
Ryuu forced himself to remember the cuts he had made to bring down each opponent. He walked through every move again. His moves had been almost perfect. But as the memories of combat ran through his mind they began to twist and darken until the images of his victims blended with the red nightmares of his mother, and he felt like he was going to throw up again. Was he any better than the men that had murdered his mother?
As the fire began to die down, Shigeru spoke, breaking his long silence. “Today is an important day. I had hoped it would come later, in another cycle or two, but fate has decreed. Do you remember when we first met and I brought you home? Do you remember the offer of a real home, a last name?”
Ryuu nodded. He remembered every day with Shigeru. There had been many days when he had wished he had chosen the other path, but on the whole he thought he had made the right choice.
“Tonight I offer you the same choice again. If you like, I can introduce you to a family as a new member. They would accept you, share their last name. You would be a farmer. It would be a hard life, but it would be honest labor and you would have a family. This choice is always offered on the day a pupil learns the consequences of their violence. I think now you realize the full extent of what your training will make you. You can stay with me and continue your training, or you can go on to a new life. The choice will be yours to make by morning.”
Ryuu looked at Shigeru. “What do you think I should do?”
“It’s not for me to say, boy. I must remain as neutral as possible, so the decision is yours and yours alone. You are the one who has to live with it.”
Ryuu nodded, and Shigeru turned in. Ryuu threw another couple of logs on the fire and let his thoughts wander. He was torn in half. He didn’t want to be anything like the men who murdered his parents, and a part of him yearned for the life of a farmer. But Shigeru was family too even if he didn’t recognize it. He had protected Ryuu, brought him up as his own. He had given everything to train Ryuu. The cycles had been hard, but Shigeru had never lied about the challenges. Farming would seem easy by comparison.
This decision was about him though. He didn’t want to be somebody he wasn’t just because he felt like he owed it to Shigeru. No, this decision had to be about what he wanted
.
He was a murderer now. When he ended the lives of four men, he had murdered. He tried to imagine himself as a gardener, trying to grow new life. Was he even worthy? How could he justify growing life if he had already made a choice to take it? Perhaps he would bring bad luck to the farmer willing to take him in, the plants would sense the blood on his hands and wilt and die.
Then there was Takako, searing into his memory. There were people who needed protecting. It would make him a murderer, but was it worth it? With his strength he could save her and all those like her. He was strong. If anyone could save her from her fate it would be him. She didn’t have anyone else. The price was high, but training with Shigeru gave him the ability to make the world better for others.
The image of his mother’s face flashed across his memory again, settling in to stay. Ryuu felt the familiar sensation of fear growing inside him, but suddenly became tired of the back-and-forth. It was time to decide. He needed to settle the nightmare of his parents’ death, and there was only one way he could think of to do so. He believed his mother would understand his choice, and when he thought about it, he believed she would be happy with it.
Ryuu crashed to sleep. He slept soundly. When he awoke there was no need to speak with Shigeru. There was never any need to speak with Shigeru. He knew. The two of them ate a quick breakfast and were on their way.
11
Ryuu had managed to get underneath Takako’s skin. Despite her best efforts she couldn’t forget his visit and she couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. On one hand he was a ray of sunlight poking through the cloudy existence of Takako’s life. She would catch herself thinking of him and smiling, daydreaming of him while doing her chores. Try as she might, she couldn’t help herself.
She liked that Ryuu was a mystery. Everything else about her life felt preordained, but Ryuu had come from nowhere. Takako couldn’t shake the feeling he was different than he appeared. He dressed like the son of a lord who had lost his fortune, but he didn’t act like any of the men or boys who came into the house. He didn’t act entitled like the world owed him a favor. Most rich boys seemed to. He had also been surprised by her situation as if it had never occurred to him that not all prostitutes were volunteers. It was a rather refreshing level of naiveté. He was also strong. He hadn’t acted like it, but Takako had learned to discern much about a person based on the way they wore clothes. Ryuu didn’t have an ounce of fat on his body. Rich boys always did. There was a secret to Ryuu, she just didn’t know what it could be.
Despite the secret, and maybe because of it, Takako found herself drawn to him in a way she hadn’t dared since her arrival at Madame’s house. He was a genuine and nice young man interested in talking to her without the pressures associated with sexual liaison. It had been apparent he didn’t know what he had been getting into, but he hid his obvious disappointment well. It had been pleasant conversing with him and watching him as he observed the world around him. He had a funny habit. When you talked to him he looked right at you, almost staring but not quite, but whenever you weren’t talking with him, his eyes would begin a slow wander around the room. She had noticed it early in their meeting and had tested her theory as their day had gone on. It was always true.
Even though her situation was inescapable there was still something about Ryuu that gave her hope. She knew it was foolish, but she enjoyed contemplating what a life outside Madame’s walls would be like. She didn’t believe Ryuu would save her from Akio, but he reminded her there was another life out there and it gave her hope. One time she tried to imagine Ryuu coming in and saving her with his decorative sword, but the thought saddened her. Takako suspected Madame’s guards would stomp Ryuu like a bug, probably without even drawing their swords. He seemed nice, and she didn’t want to see him getting hurt doing something foolish.
He gave her a sense that not everything in life was meaningless. She had enjoyed her time in his company. She wondered if there was any chance of another visit from him, simply to break the monotonous dread she felt regarding her future. During his visit she had been able to focus on the present. For just a short afternoon she believed everything would be fine. It wasn’t much, but it was more than she had previously.
On the other hand, his positive influence in her life wasn’t always a good thing. One lesson she had been taught early by Madame was that hope was dangerous. It wasn’t until she met Ryuu she realized just how honest that lesson from Madame had been. Any time she began to hope she remembered there was no way out of her situation. He reminded her she was innocent and there should have been a choice. Once her thoughts began running in that direction she would become more and more gloomy.
Daily she began to think about clever escapes. She considered faking her own death or even committing suicide. She dreamed up schemes to find the money to buy back her freedom, each one more ridiculous than the last. She would meticulously think through each of these plans, only to run up against some wall, some inescapable fact that prevented her from acting upon her dreams. Her responsibility to her family weighed on her mind even though she hadn’t heard a word from them since her arrival. The mere threat of violence against them was enough to motivate her to stay in place.
Every time she hit that wall, that inescapable fact, there was a moment she hated Ryuu for making her life more difficult. Resignation was easier than hope, less emotional. She thought about some of the older ladies in the house, how often their days off were spent intoxicated by the cheap wine Madame supplied for her girls. She understood now why those women chose that path. It was easier and less painful in the long run.
But then her mood would change and she realized that she still liked Ryuu, and it wasn’t his fault her life was as it was. If blame had to be placed it would be on her father, but Takako couldn’t bring herself to hate her father, not even then. So instead she did as her nature directed her and strove to make the best out of her situation.
It took all her courage to go to Madame one afternoon to ask for permission to write to Ryuu.
Madame stared at her warily. Takako didn’t shrink from the attention.
“I’ve been worrying about the effect his visit had on you. Your mood has been much more unpredictable since his arrival.”
Takako didn’t say anything.
“Why?”
She had thought carefully about this. “It is good practice for me. But most importantly, it would make me happy.”
Takako had spent the past several days deciding how to defend her decision. There was no hope in lying to Madame. No one could. Madame frequently spoke about wanting to care for her women, wanting to keep them happy. Takako was betting it wasn’t all a lie.
But Madame had let Ryuu come in the first place, which meant there was something else going on as well. Takako was sure the money was good, but Takako was dangerous right now. All of her potential clients had dried up as soon as word of Nori’s request had spread. Letting any male near her was dangerous for the house.
No, there was something else, some threads Takako didn’t see. Whatever the case, she had rolled the dice. There had been no other option.
“Fine. But I expect to read all correspondence both ways.”
Takako had expected nothing less. “Thank you.”
So Takako wrote to Ryuu, keeping the first letter short and meaningless. She didn’t know if it would get to Ryuu and didn’t know if he would respond. Takako didn’t even know if Ryuu could read or write. She didn’t want to invest too much of herself into the letter if her plan backfired. When she looked over it, she almost wondered if it was too bland. Thank you for your visit, I enjoyed your company, I hope you will look us up the next time you are in town, hope that your journey back to the village was safe, et cetera. She worried that even if he could read he might consider it a polite thank you all customers received. In a small act of rebellion and freedom she kissed her signature on the page and gave it to Madame to be sent.
A full moon passed, and she did not hear back fro
m Ryuu. Madame had cautioned her about getting her hopes up. Although the letter had been addressed to the village nearest where he lived, Madame mentioned in passing she wasn’t sure exactly where Shigeru was from and that he may not stop into town for a while to pick it up. She also wasn’t sure either Shigeru or Ryuu could read. This was all news to Takako. Although Madame wouldn’t speak about it, it was clear she knew more about Shigeru than she let on.
Takako’s high hopes began to plummet despite her best efforts at not investing herself in the letter. Ryuu wasn’t much, but he was the only thing she had. Maybe she had been wrong about that. After a while her natural optimism reasserted itself, but she knew even that dimmed a little every day.
Takako almost jumped for joy when she received a letter written in small, neat handwriting. The seal had been ripped open, but that had been the deal. Madame had made herself clear. Just as she was about to open the letter she stopped. Better to hold on to it. She set it aside in her room to treasure until that evening.
When the day’s work was done Takako prepared herself for bed and her last action of the day was to open Ryuu’s letter. His handwriting was dense, as if every inch of paper was valuable to him. Takako read through the letter once quickly and then went back to read it, savoring every word. Then she read it through a third time. Like her letter to him it was full of meaningless discussion. There was a short description of one of his favorite places to relax, some details from his journey, and greetings and well-wishes from Shigeru.
Takako pondered the letter. Although there was a lot written there, she could tell almost nothing about Ryuu from the message. The tone was friendly, conversational, and kind, but she learned nothing meaningful about him. No hint of what his family did for a living, why he carried a sword, or even where he lived. Takako had to look up the village on a map. Even once she found the village, which was in the middle of nowhere, she had no idea where Ryuu lived relative to the village.