by Brandon Chen
“Then you’d prefer me to just accept my death rather than fight back against the forces that would take my life?” Keimaro snapped.
His father was silent for a moment and closed his eyes, massaging his temples as he tried to calm down. “I refuse to teach you a useless technique that will only get you into trouble and, even worse, give you another way to hurt yourself. Leave me to eat in peace. At least allow me that luxury in my own home.”
Keimaro ignored that last comment and continued to shovel food into his mouth forcefully before he finally picked up his plate and brought it to the sink. He washed the dishes that night in solitude, before finally walking upstairs to his room. He heard his mother urging Mai to take a bath, but the young girl kept complaining, saying that she would do it in the morning. Keimaro smiled.
He passed by his younger sister, who was sitting outside her room with her arms wrapped around her knees. She was pouting after having the miniature argument with her mother, but her eyes glistened when she saw Keimaro. The older brother squatted down in front of her to pat her head. “Hey, Mai. How was your day today, hmm?” he asked with a warm smile.
Mai was rubbing an eye with her fist, completely exhausted. She looked as if she were ready to fall asleep right on the spot. “It was good. I aced my test at school today! The teacher said I was the brightest in the class,” she said with a yawn.
Keimaro lifted Mai into the air and held her in his arms as he began to walk to her room. “Is that so? Well, you’d better get a good night’s rest, okay, Mai? Keep doing well in school. And don’t fight with Mom. She’s just doing what’s best for you,” he said with a smile as he placed Mai down in her bed and pulled the blankets over her. He watched Mai snuggle up with a teddy bear that Keimaro had bought her for her birthday. It was made from leftover scraps of resources that the village hadn’t used. It wasn’t the best present, but she cherished it like it was the greatest thing she had ever received. Keimaro didn’t know if what he had said at the dinner table was true, but if the monsters really ever did break in, then he would never forgive himself if he didn’t have the power to protect Mai. He watched as Mai fell asleep within a minute and turned his head to the hallway as he heard the floor creak behind him.
“Kei, I want to speak to you,” his father said from the doorway.
Keimaro stood up straight and walked to the hallway, closing Mai’s door silently before turning to address his father.
Before he could speak, his father said, “Your teacher told me about your little incident at school today. What do you think you were doing? Fighting with Buu again? Why would you do that? I thought that we agreed that you shouldn’t fight.”
“Yeah?” Keimaro muttered, not meeting his father’s eyes. “So, I should just let him beat me every single time that I go to school? Are you so oblivious that you don’t even notice the bruises and beatings that I receive every day? Or is it that you’re like the rest of the idiotic adults of this village and don’t care if I get beaten every day and teased? You wouldn’t even care if I died, I bet.”
His father stared at him with a look of shock and disbelief. One hand balled up into a tight fist at his side as he put the other hand on the wall with a snarl. “Look, Keimaro—”
“Look what? It’s true. Not to mention, if I learn to fight, I won’t just be able to protect Mai, I will be able to defend myself against the evils that exist within this stupid cage that we live in,” Keimaro growled, looking into his father’s eyes with a convinced glare. “I know that you adopted me as a child, father, but that gives you no right to treat me the way you do. That gives you no reason to accept the fact that your own son was almost beaten to death today. Are you going to look the other way again? Or are you actually going to do something? The teachers all turn the other way as if nothing happened. There is no authority. There is no one that will stop these bullies from harming me. So, it’s either that you prevent these bullies from harming me, or I’ll do it myself. Teach me how to defend myself.”
His father stood there and closed his eyes. There was nothing for him to say. He was unable to tell Keimaro why the bullies were harming him. He was powerless in this situation. “I’ll teach you. My style of combat is unique. It is unlike any style in the globe. I explored much of this world back in my day before the wards around the village were put up. But, my fighting style is very difficult. No one else has mastered its speed and accuracy. Don’t expect to be able to protect yourself in a month or even six months. It’ll take a year merely to grasp the concept of my style. Perhaps two years to begin to master the way of the sword, and that is only if you train every single day with maximum effort.”
“You know I would do anything to obtain the strength to protect Mai and me,” Keimaro said.
“Then we begin tomorrow,” his father said simply before walking past him in the hallway. He left Keimaro standing there alone, watching the shadows dance around the candles on the wall.
Keimaro inhaled a deep breath as he walked to his room, which was practically empty except for a bed, his wardrobe against the wall on the left side of the room, and a large chest on the right side of the room. The chest had been simply lying there for many years, and Keimaro couldn’t remember a single day when he hadn’t seen that chest in his room. However, he had never opened the chest. The only one with the key was his father, and he had it wrapped around his neck like a necklace at all times. It sometimes made Keimaro curious as to what was inside of it, but, knowing his father, the chest would be complicated and impossible to pick—and stealing the key from his own father definitely wasn’t a solution.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes locked onto the keyhole of the chest, listening to the silence of the night. He ran a hand through his messy black hair and exhaled a deep breath. His father had always told him that he would know what was inside of the chest when he was ready.
When would he be ready?
The question was always lingering in his mind, and he shook his head as if to clear it. He kicked off his shoes and threw himself onto his mattress, bouncing a bit before settling in. He lay still and sat looking at the blank ceiling, while a streak of moonlight shone in through the window of his house. He folded his arms behind his head and looked out the window at the gleaming stars in the sky, remembering the sight that he had seen earlier in the day with Yata. A year, huh? That’s the amount of time it would take to escape this place. Maybe even longer. Would Yata be able to wait that long? Keimaro didn’t even know if he wanted to wait that long.
There was a whole world out there, and he was stuck inside of a cottage, behind a barrier—like a coward. He closed his eyes, noticing that he had called himself the worst of insults that he could think of. Cowards ran from something when they could turn and face it themselves. Cowardice. Keimaro hated the concept, but knew that it existed in him. He thought it was horrid and absolutely ridiculous that some stories told of soldiers who would go to war and ended up fleeing. It was cowards who sat there and watched their friends die. Keimaro didn’t ever want to be like that. That was why he had asked his father to teach him how to fight. It would have an all-around benefit. He would be able to protect Mai, protect himself, and finally obtain the strength he needed to leave the village. He remembered when speaking to his father that he had only said he would protect Mai.
If the beasts broke in through the wards, would he not try to protect his mother and father? He honestly didn’t know. His mother was always kind to him, and he would love to protect her. But his father. He always looked the other direction. A person could slice off Keimaro’s leg, and his father probably wouldn’t even blink an eye or be worried about whether Keimaro was okay. He would probably just ask his son what he wanted for supper and then cook the opposite of what he had answered. It was actually a surprise that his father had agreed to teach him. Perhaps it was the speech that he had made earlier.
He wondered what Yata would act like the next day and who that foreign girl was. That sense of mystery that gli
stened around her made him all the more curious of her origins. He also wondered if Yata would continue being his friend and whether or not he was okay with waiting a year to leave the village. Should he spend his time to master the way of the sword rather than just learning to protect himself? Which would be more beneficial to him in the long run?
Keimaro closed his eyes, allowing the feeling of overwhelming thoughts to surge through his head. He had made his first friend, a mysterious girl was lying in Yata’s house, they had seen a beast earlier today, he would be training swordplay tomorrow … it was all so much. Such a day out of the norm, he couldn’t help but smile to himself. Something exciting was coming in his path of life. He could feel it. When it was coming, he didn’t know, but he supposed that was the excitement of it and the excitement of life as a whole. It was a thrill that one couldn’t obtain while living behind the walls of the magical shield. It was one that could be caused only by outside forces.
The girl.
Third Musketeer
Keimaro grabbed his bag he used for school and put some materials into it for later that morning. He stuffed a few apples into it, along with some of his mom’s clothes. All this hassle, just for the mysterious girl. Not that he minded. In fact, that girl was all that he was thinking about. Not in an obsessive way, but he was rather curious. He wanted to know where she came from. He wanted to know everything about the outside world. Was it different than Bakaara? Well, of course it was, but he was sure that the technology must be more advanced! In fact, Bakaara was probably incredibly behind the other empires technologically since it was a small and isolated village with no contact with any outside sources.
He folded the clothing neatly and placed it into the bag, blinking a few times as the realization of how awkward it was to be taking clothes out of his mother’s wardrobe hit him. At least I won’t have to be here again, he thought. Unfortunately, he turned around only to find himself face to face with his mother, who gave the bag in his hands a knowing look. Keimaro could feel the heat rising to his cheeks as he stammered, “W-Wait! I can explain. I need the clothes for … an acting project! That I’m doing for school, yeah, an acting project. Umm … a girl that I know needs some more old-fashioned clothes so—”
“So, you’re saying I’m old-fashioned?”
“No, no, no!” Keimaro waved his hands before him, his face flushing red. To his relief, his mother giggled—he knew that she was just teasing him. He hated when she did that, teased him. But, to be honest, it definitely wasn’t as bad as when someone else did it. When other people did anything to embarrass him or make him look bad, he always felt a certain resentment toward them. He hated being frowned upon.
“I’m sure you have a good use for all of that,” his mother said with a warm smile. “It’s not like I need these clothes right now. Just make sure you return them. I trust you’ll be using it for the right reasons.” She paused before continuing, “You know, if you ever feel like you’re a little more feminine … you can always tell—”
“No!” Keimaro exclaimed, his face red with embarrassment. He groaned loudly. “It’s not that I’m feminine!”
“Of course not,” his mother said with a sly wink and a chuckle, sitting down on her bed and patting the space beside her. “Kei, come and talk with me just for a moment?”
Keimaro sighed reluctantly and sat down beside his mother, looking into her eyes as he kept the brown bag on his lap in a rather uncomfortable position and shrugged. “What is it?”
“You shouldn’t be so angry at your father all of the time.”
Here we go again. “It’s not my fault he doesn’t care,” Keimaro jumped in.
“It isn’t his fault either.”
“Isn’t it? Does he have no control over his own feelings?” Keimaro said, rolling his eyes dramatically. He scoffed, feeling rather annoyed at the nature of this conversation. He hated talking about his father, the man who always abandoned him in his time of need. “The old man chooses to always look the other way instead of acting. He’s a coward.”
“Think what you want, but keep your thoughts to yourself,” his mother said in a gentle tone. “If you get your father extremely mad, you never know what’s going to happen. Just … try to be a little more caring, hmm? He’s the one who raised you, after all. He was a little reluctant when we decided to adopt you and Mai. I know for a fact that he doesn’t regret our decision. Your father and I are just trying to take care of you two. Just try and behave, please? For me?”
A few minutes later, Keimaro had left his house and was walking in the morning light, tossing an apple lightly into the air and swiftly catching it in his hand. A cool wind blew, ruffling the paper bag as he held it and also blowing his clothing. The blades of grass in the field swayed as if they were all dancing in unison. Yata’s cottage soon came into clear view. It was an isolated building away from most of the village in the middle of a field. There was a stone well beside the small cottage; a wooden bucket set beside it along with a lot of rope. Smoke was drifting off from the chimney, signaling that Yata was indeed home. Excitement and positive energy radiated from his body as he smiled to himself, eager to meet the girl.
He scratched his neck and took a bite of his apple as he approached the cottage. He felt the sweet juice run down his throat as he rapped loudly on the door, watching as it swung open. He jumped with surprise when he saw Yata raising a metal bat high into the air, nearly ready to smash his skull open.
“Eh?” Yata said with a surprised expression and then relaxed, lowering his bat. “Oh, it’s you.”
“What the hell were you planning on doing with that?” Keimaro said, his face pale. “That’s used to play a children’s sport, not kill me.”
“I planned on smashing someone’s skull in,” he replied without hesitation.
“Why would you do that?”
“No one can find out about her!”
“You’re being a bit paranoid, aren’t you?” Keimaro muttered, tossing an apple to him as he walked through the doorway into the next room. He found the girl sitting upright on a bed, leaning back against a pillow. He blinked for a moment, not realizing how beautiful the girl was until that moment. Her long brown hair flowed down past her shoulders and extended toward the small of her back. Her eyes were an enchanting royal blue that scanned him—similar to the way he was examining her. Keimaro felt his face growing hot as he looked at her and gulped. “Has she talked yet?”
“No,” Yata muttered with a sigh, shrugging as he sat on his bed. He bounced on it before leaning back and crossing his arms behind his head. “Did you bring her something to eat?”
Keimaro nodded and reached into his bag. He pulled out an apple and walked over to the girl, offering it to her. He watched as she grasped the apple as delicately as she would a young child and blinked a few times while looking at it. Then she took a small, experimental bite, sinking her teeth into the fruit. A piece of the skin ended up on the corner of her lips as well as specks of juice, but it didn’t matter. A small smile stretched across her face, and she began to take larger and faster bites into the juicy apple. Keimaro also pulled out a loaf of bread and handed it to her, watching her devour the food as if she hadn’t eaten in days. “She seems pretty hungry.”
“Yeah,” Yata said with a resigned sigh. “Oi, are you ready to talk yet?”
“You really don’t know how to talk to girls, do you?” Keimaro muttered and sat down beside the girl with a reassuring smile. To be quite honest, neither did he, but he figured that maybe talking to Mai would suffice as some practice in talking to females. “Hey, I’m Keimaro, and that’s my friend, Yata. We are the two boys who saved you from the monster on the hilltops last night, remember?” Smooth.
The girl looked at him as if he were a foreign being and nodded lightly upon finishing the apple. She placed the core on the table beside her and then folded her hands neatly across her lap. “My name is Aika,” she said in a soft, innocent voice. “I … umm … I’m the princess from the empire
of Faar. I was kidnapped by Spartans and was taken through a forest. In the forest … it was extremely dark. There were odd creatures everywhere. The Spartan soldiers, as you probably already knew, are well-known for their melee combat. They were able to fend off many of the vicious beasts that came to devour us. However, every time blood was shed, stronger and larger beasts came in a brutal attempt to slaughter us all. A small troop of soldiers tried to escort me. They burned the carriage as a decoy to lure the beasts away. The large, black tiger-like creature slaughtered the rest of the escorts and chased me. That’s when I found the two of you, simply lying underneath an apple tree upon a hill. Might I ask what you were doing there, next to such a dangerous place?”
Keimaro was first surprised that this girl was even speaking their language. Well, he had read somewhere that all humans spoke a common language in this continent. Her accent was different, but it made her all the more attractive to Keimaro. Wait, this girl that they happened to meet outside of the barrier was actually the princess of one of the largest three empires on the continent? That wasn’t good. They had an extremely important person living inside of their barrier! It would only mean that the Faar Empire would target Bakaara, jeopardizing the safety of the citizens. This was a lot to process.
“Uh….” Keimaro also wasn’t particularly sure how to answer Aika’s question. What were they doing out there? It was somewhat hard to explain, especially to an outsider who wouldn’t understand the feeling of being isolated from the world and trapped within the barriers.
“We were simply gazing at the stars,” Yata intervened, clearing his throat in an attempt to change the subject. “Either way, it’s going to be rough if you want to get home, princess. It could take some time, actually, but you’re welcome to stay here for the time being. We just need to figure out a way for you to fit in with everyone else.”