Yamahata Taikan was sitting down to his dinner. He ate alone, as most nights, upstairs in his private study. The room reflected his wealth, with expensive tapestries lining the walls. Sculptures both Japanese and Western stood on tables all around. Likewise, his meal was expensive and large.
Yamahata himself was a small, compact man. His hair was mostly gone and his stomach was filling out. He did not care.
As he raised the first bite of sushi to his lips, the door burst open and a man shouted, "Sir!"
Yamahata almost dropped his chopsticks. "Kakutama! What are you doing bursting in here chaotically like that?!"
Kakutama Okakura, his chief assistant, said, "I am sorry, sir, but there is a man at the inn! I think he may be the one we need!"
"What? Well, don't just stand there, go get him and bring him before me!"
"Yes sir!"
Kakutama left and Yamahata turned back to his food. He was too worked up now to eat. He poured himself some sake and tried to calm his nerves.
Either Kakutama took his time or the man took some convincing. It was close to half an hour later when Kakutama burst in again. This time Yamahata almost choked on a mouthful of sake. "Dammit, Kakutama, announce yourself before you come in like that!"
"I am sorry, sir, but the man is here!"
"Well, show him in!"
"Man" hardly seemed the right term for this one. "Boy" seemed more appropriate. He could not have been more than eighteen. He looked rough, though, which was what Yamahata needed. He was tall and very slim, but it was easy to sense a wiry strength in his limbs. Yamahata also sensed that he would be fast, since he was light on his feet. He wore white pants and a white shirt with bands of black on the lapels and cuffs. A red band circled his head, where a shock of thick hair grew in all directions.
The man looked around the expensive room as if he were not accustomed to such appointments but was not terribly impressed. Then his eyes fell on the sake jar and he smiled. "Oy, grandpa. Your guy here disturbed my meal at the inn to get me to come here. Don't you think you should offer me some of that?"
"Oh, er, yes," said Yamahata. He poured the sake and handed it to the man. The man took it and threw it down in one gulp, then held out the cup for more. Yamahata poured again, a bit nervous now. The man sipped it and set it down.
Yamahata sat down at the table. The man did so as well, opposite him. Yamahata said, "Ah, pardon me, but I don't think I got your name."
"Zanza," said the man. He looked around the room a little more. "Never been in one of these Western houses before."
"Ah, yes, well, I just had it built recently. Uh, my name is Yamahata Taikan. That one is my assistant, Kakutama. Did he tell you why I wanted you to come here?"
"He said you might have a job for me."
"Y-Yes, that's correct. Or rather, it might be, if you are what I think you are."
"I'm a fighter, and that's about it."
"Ah, well, as it happens, that is just what I need."
Zanza grunted. "You got somebody you want me to fight?"
"Something, yes," said Yamahata. "A demon bear."
Zanza looked at him for a long time before speaking again. "I think you're gonna have to explain that."
"Well, about six months ago some of the livestock in the area started to disappear. Some of the farmers claimed to have seen a large beast around when their animals would vanish."
"Are you a farmer?"
"No, I am but a landowner."
Zanza grunted again.
"We tried to track the beast, but we could not seem to pin it down. Then about a month ago..." He trailed off.
Zanza said, "A month ago what?"
Yamahata shivered. "I saw the monster. I was out one day looking at the local rivers, planning irrigation and so forth. I stumbled across the beast." He stopped talking again, terror evident on his face. Finally, he continued. "It was huge, with eyes that glowed red and terrible claws. It had felled a deer and there was blood all over it. I was sure it would kill me, but I suppose its hunger had been sated for a time. It roared at me and I ran off. It was the most terrifying moment of my life."
"Has it killed anyone else around here?"
"Well, not as of yet, but I am sure it will eventually! I shudder to think what might happen if a child out playing should stumble across this monster!"
"Yeah..." said Zanza. He appeared to consider it. Yamahata noticed the man had not touched his sake since he mentioned the bear.
At last the man said, "I'm not too keen on trying to fight a monster like that. I mean, how do I know the thing can even be killed?"
"Well, if you are confident in your abilities, there should be no problem, right? As for any reluctance you might have, well, that can be overcome, I'm sure, by the proper inducement."
With that, they got to haggling. Eventually they settled on a fee that Zanza found acceptable. Yamahata thought the price was high, but he supposed it could not be helped. It was not as though they had strong fighters coming through town all the time.
Yamahata said, "So you will take care of it tonight, yes?"
Zanza looked at him like he was crazy. "You want me to go find a demon bear in the woods and fight it at night?!"
Yamahata got a little angry at this thug's presumptuousness. "Well, for the amount of money you're charging, I would think that more than fair! Although, I suppose if you're afraid, you could wait until tomorrow!"
Zanza looked like he was going to reply, or possibly get violent. Yamahata tensed, wondering if he had gone too far. Then Zanza relaxed. "Okay, grandfather, have it your way."
Yamahata mopped his brow with a sleeve. "Yes, well... I believe the creature can be found near the waterfall, about a two miles west of the town.”
Zanza grimaced. "I'm not too good with directions, even in the day."
Kakutama, who had been standing silently in a corner, spoke up. "I have a compass you could use."
"Okay," Zanza said. Kakutama went and got it. After that, Zanza said, "Well, I just have to go back to the inn and get my partner, and then I'll go."
Yamahata's brows furrowed. "I didn't know you worked with a partner."
The look Zanza gave him carried something like contempt. "Don't worry, you only have to pay me." When he turned to leave, Yamahata saw on his back a Chinese character. It said "evil."
Zanza tried to follow a westerly course as well as he could. The moon was half full, which gave him enough light to see the compass well enough. The ground was uneven, though, and he tripped a lot. The weight of the Zanbatou, the huge sword he leaned on one shoulder, did not help matters. Whenever he tripped it would land on his head or back, as if there was some special force of gravity that made it inevitable. Putting that together with taking a job from a rich jerk like this Yamahata guy put him in a foul mood indeed. This demon bear better watch it, he thought.
Finally he reached the waterfall. It came off a cliff that extended off outside his vision. It was maybe fifty feet high, and descended into a pool about two hundred feet wide. From there the water flowed south in a river about twenty feet wide.
There were jagged rocks on either side of the waterfall, down at the base. He thought he glimpsed a strange darkness there, to the north of the pool. He came closer and saw a cave around eight feet high. He dreaded going into that gloom, which the moonlight did not penetrate at all. But he knew there was a good chance it was the home of the creature.
As he entered, he smelled rotting flesh. As his eyes became slightly adjusted to the total darkness, he saw bones. He looked closer but could not tell what they were. With a sick feeling in his stomach, he picked a few up. There were some ribcages. He didn't think any of them were human. One was big enough to be a cow. He found a couple of skulls that might have been deer, or wolves maybe.
He put down the bones. Though the night was silent, he imagined he could hear the screams of the things that had died in here. He did not want to go any further into the blackness before him. He stopped breathing and listened. There were no sounds of movement or breathing. He thought about what his gut instinct was. No, the creature wasn't here.
He went back out into the light, such as it was. He looked around among the rocks for some sign of the creature, but could not see anything. There were a few spots of mud, but no footprints, or at least none visible in this light. He looked up at the cliff, and decided he would have to climb it. He couldn't do that with the Zanbatou, though; he would have to leave it down here. He was not at all happy about that, but he could not think of anything else.
He set the huge sword down among the rocks. Then he went over to the cliff face and started up. It was not hard; there were plenty of handholds. It took just a few moments to reach the top.
Up there, he looked around. There were trees everywhere, right up to the banks of the river that flowed off the edge of the cliff. There was darkness among the trees, perhaps not quite so bad as in the cave, but still ominous.
He walked forward, keeping the river within sight. In this darkness, that was pretty close. The trees closed about him. Climbing the cliff had given him a light sweat, and as it cooled he shivered. His breathing involuntarily quickened. He glanced around at every little sound. On one such glance, he saw a huge, hairy form.
He turned toward it and instinctively stepped back. The thing towered over him. He had only an instant to see its "face," almost invisible in the darkness. He couldn't see any red glow, but he could see the glinting teeth well enough. And he heard the low growl that came from it. Then a paw lashed out at him.
It caught him in the chest and sent him flying. He landed clumsily, throwing up dirt and fallen leaves, and got to his feet as quickly as he could. The thing was rushing at him on two legs, a guttural roar sounding from it. He deeply regretted leaving the Zanbatou behind. The bear was between him and the cliff. He had to get around it somehow.
As the bear's charge brought it closer, he hurled himself to the side. Faster than he would have expected, the bear stopped and changed direction, coming after him again. This time he held his ground and readied himself to fight. He did not know how much damage he could do with just his fist, but it was worth a shot.
The bear got close and Zanza punched at its midsection with all his strength. Before he could connect, though, the bear's paw lashed out again and caught him in the face. He was thrown back by the force, but managed to keep his footing this time.
Damn! he thought. This thing's got a longer reach than me! And it's smart enough to hit me before I can hit it!
He picked up a big rock in one hand as the bear came forward again. The bear stopped and growled. It doesn't want to get hit by this, thought Zanza. He edged toward the cliff. The bear watched his movements and stayed with him, but it did not attack. He didn't know what he would do when he reached the cliff. He couldn't just jump off, but if he tried to climb the bear might attack while he was helpless.
He got closer and closer to the edge, and at last reached the end of the trees. The bear came out as well, a short distance away. Zanza heard the waterfall behind him. On impulse, he turned and ran for it. He dropped the rock. He might have thrown it at the beast, but he had seen a man beaten to death with a rock once. He could not bring himself to do that, even to a monster.
He reached the edge of the waterfall and looked down into the big pool of water. He gulped and got ready to jump. He heard a sound close behind him and turned. The bear had pursued him more quickly than he had expected. He had no time.
It all seemed to happen instantly. The charging bear slammed into him and they both went off the edge. His breath had been knocked out of him. The world spun around as the tumbled through empty air. The pool rushed up at them.
The combined weight of him and the bear smashed into the water with explosive force. Zanza felt water go into his lungs and tried to get away from the bear. But the thing held him fast. He had already been gasping as they fell. He gulped more water, and everything became black.
When he woke up it was still night, or possibly night again. He was lying in mud. He wearily lifted his head and looked around.
He was on the north side of the pool, about twenty feet from the cave. He could hear grunting from within. It must have been the bear. He glanced at where he had left the Zanbatou, and almost gasped with relief. It was still there, on the rocks between him and the cave. He had to get to it before the thing knew he was awake.
But how was he alive in the first place? He had been sure he would die in the water. The bear must have pulled him out so it could eat him later, and he had coughed up the water in his lungs before he actually drowned.
He would have to worry about it later. He had to get to his sword.
As carefully and quietly as he could, he stretched his left arm out in the direction of the Zanbatou and grasped one of the rocks. He pulled himself toward it. He cringed as the mud beneath him made a sucking noise. He did not see the bear emerge from the cave, though, so he kept going.
He managed to pull himself out of the mud and up onto the rocks. There were then only about six feet between him and the Zanbatou. He decided to go for it. He slid his left leg underneath him. He got his foot on a sturdy rock. He counted to three, and pushed up and forward as hard as he could.
He got about two feet off the ground. Then the mud on his shoe slipped and he crashed back down again. A roar sounded from the cave and the bear appeared. Zanza cursed and dove for the Zanbatou. The bear was almost on top of him. He lifted it as fast as he could and swung with all his strength.
He did not have time to turn the edge toward the monster. The flat side of the Zanbatou slammed into the side of the beast. The creature may have been huge, but the weight of the Zanbatou and Zanza's strength lifted it off its feet and sent it crashing into the rocks.
Zanza got to his feet and readied the sword for another strike. But the bear did not stir. He crept closer and saw its head lying on the ground a few feet away from its body.
Revulsion swept through him. He had cut off the thing's head! But wait, that didn't make any sense. He had hit with the flat of the blade, and had not hit the neck at all. Heads didn't just fall off.
He got right up to the creature. It was not headless; he was staring down at a human face. For a moment he could only gape in shock. Then he went back and picked up the other head. It was a bear's head, all right, but it was hollow, with holes for the eyes. It was just a mask.
He thought about it, and a great deal became clear to him. The "demon bear" had struck him twice at the top of the cliff, but its claws had not torn him. He looked at its hands. It wore what looked like fingerless gloves; it had no claws at all. He had seen the glint of its teeth, but it had not bitten him. And suddenly he understood that it had not been trying to kill him at all. It had not struck any lethal blows, not even blows that would have been lethal to an average man. It had only been trying to scare him. It had seemed like the thing was trying to prevent him from getting to the cliff, but now he wasn't sure. Maybe it didn't want him to jump off, or maybe it was just trying to keep him away from the meat it had in the cave. When he had been drowning, it had pulled him from the water. It had saved his life. It was no monster at all, it was a man. If it hadn't been so dark he would have seen it instantly.
He understood something else, then, too.
Yamahata Taikan paced around his house restlessly. The fighter Zanza had been gone a long time; it was almost dawn. He had considered trying to sleep and having Kakutama keep watch for the fighter, but he knew he would not be able to.
Then he heard a voice from outside shout, "Oy, grandpa!"
Yamahata was on the second floor. He rushed to the front of the house. There was a balcony there. He went out and looked down at the street.
The fighter, Zanza, was there, holding something enormous. Yamahata had to stare at it for a moment before he realized it was a sword, the largest sword he had ever seen. He looked at Zanza. The man was a mess, with mud all over his white clothes and some visible bruises.
But he was alive. Yamahata felt a surge of elation. Zanza must have killed the creature with that huge sword. Yamahata said, "I am delighted that you are all right, sir! I trust the creature is dead?"
"I didn't see any creature out there," Zanza answered.
"B-But... You have obviously been in a fight..."
"Yeah, I fought the guy I met out there, and beat him. But he wasn't any monster."
Yamahata was not sure about Zanza's tone. "N-Not a monster?"
"No. He was the biggest guy I ever saw, and he had a furry suit on so I couldn't tell it was a man until I brought him down. It was so dark, you see what I'm saying?" His eyes, locked on Yamahata's, were so intense that Yamahata could not bring himself to respond or look away. Zanza went on, "But you saw him in the daytime, didn't you? That's what you said, that you had been out there in the afternoon. You knew it was a man you were sending me out to kill. You sent me to murder someone."
Sweat was pouring off Yamahata by this time. He looked at the huge sword in Zanza's hands, and realized he was probably within its reach even here on the second floor. He swallowed hard and said, "I did not realize you were a man of such high ethical standards. Perhaps for more money -"
Zanza's face contorted in anger, and Yamahata knew he had made a large mistake. The long handle of the sword was resting on the ground, but now Zanza lifted it. He held the sword with both hands and swung it out behind him. Yamahata wanted to run back inside but his feet seemed glued to the balcony. Then Zanza swung the sword.
The sword came around in a huge sideways arc. There was a great crashing noise as the sword smashed through the entire front of the first floor of Yamahata's house. Yamahata felt a shudder beneath him. Wood and other debris trailed after the huge sword as it came around behind Zanza again. Then he set the handle of the sword in the ground again, as before.
For a moment Yamahata did not know what to think. Then he heard a groaning noise, and the balcony gave a lurch. The front of the second floor, without the first floor to support it, collapsed with a noise that drowned out all else. As the balcony fell Yamahata was thrown forward screaming. He thumped and rolled along the ground until he slammed into something hard and unmoving. He looked and realized it was Zanza's legs.
The fighter-for-hire looked down at him with contempt, then bent down so his face was right in front of Yamahata's. He said, "Sorry about that, but I like to look a man in the eye when we talk."
Yamahata nodded, too afraid to speak.
"You told me that thing - that guy - never killed anybody. He didn't kill me either, even though he could have. He kills your cows, but a man has to eat, right? So here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna take the money you were going to pay me and use it to buy food for him. You understand?"
Yamahata slowly began to understand that he was going to live. He nodded. "Y-Yes, of course."
"And you're not gonna work your farmers like slaves to make you even more money. And you're not gonna send any more men after that guy. You got that?”
Yamahata said, "Of course, of course."
Zanza stood then and hoisted the Zanbatou up on his shoulder. The sky was beginning to turn gray. He looked up at it, then looked down the road to the north. That was the way he had been travelling, wasn't it? He started off north again, not sparing another glance for the man who almost made him murder another man for nothing. Zanza had not committed that crime. He thought it should have felt good, knowing that, but somehow it didn't.
Kamiya Kaoru stood by the gate bidding farewell to her students. They thanked her for the lesson and called her "Sensei." It felt strange; she wondered if it always would.
She was just turning back to clean the dojo when a voice behind her said, "Kamiya-sensei."
She turned back to the gate. Standing there were three men. She knew them all to varying degrees, but was not sure which had spoken.
The one on the right was well known to her: Maekawa Miyauchi, master at the Maekawa Dojo. He had been a close friend of her father's. He was around fifty, with a full head of gray hair and a beard. He looked on her with affection, but there was an undercurrent of discomfort in his features.
The man on the left was Isoda Gonshiro, master at the Isoda Dojo. He was taller than the other men, as well as thinner. He was probably thirty-five or so, but she was not sure. He had a full head of black hair and a pinched face that always seemed shifty to her. Her father had not especially liked him, and there was little love lost between the Kamiya Kasshin and Isoda Isui students. He did not look on Kaoru with affection, but with superiority.
The man in the center was the oldest and shortest. He leaned on a cane and his pure white hair was almost gone. Her father had always taught her never to underestimate this one, though. Even in his old age he could defeat many of the young students, even the advanced ones. This was Shobo Arinori, the master of the Shobo Shoumu Style of kenjutsu. The Shobo Dojo was the largest in Tokyo, and many said their style was the strongest. Shobo and her father had had a complicated relationship, one Kaoru herself had never entirely understood. But there was always mutual respect between the two, and Kaoru had no small amount of affection for the old man. He carried himself with a quiet dignity that made even local politicians and warriors seasoned by battle seek out his approval. She could not read his features at all, though, now.
"Shobo-sensei," she said, bowing deeply. She did the same for the other two. "Isoda-sensei. Maekawa-sensei. You are very welcome here."
"We wish to speak with you, Kamiya-sensei," said Maekawa. "Do you have time?"
"Certainly," she said. There could be no other answer to men of their stature. She would have liked to have taken a bath and put on a kimono, but that would have to wait. "Shall we go into the dojo? I think it has been a while since Shobo-sensei and Isoda-sensei have seen it."
"That will do," said Isoda brusquely. She gave another quick bow and turned to lead them into the dojo. All four took off their sandals respectfully. She went over to the shrine at the end of the room and sat, facing them. They arranged themselves around her.
"I must apologize about the mess," she said. "We just finished our classes for today." There were a couple of shinai, bamboo practice swords, leaning against the walls, and the floor was marked with footprints and sweat.
"That is unimportant," said Isoda. "We have come, Kamiya-sensei, to ascertain your intentions."
She was taken aback. "I am sorry, I do not know what you mean."
His words bit off the end of her sentence. "It is obvious that you cannot continue on alone as the teacher of the Kamiya Kasshin Style. We wish to know when you are going to close the school."
Now she was really shocked. She struggled to compose herself and maintain an even tone. "I-I have made no plans to close the Kamiya Dojo."
"Well, when do you plan to consider it?" His tone became increasingly rude.
"I do not... It is not my intention to close the Kamiya Dojo, ever."
"You are a very young woman," Isoda said, emphasizing the last word ever so slightly. "You should listen to your elders in matters like these. It is impossible for a girl your age, and an assistant master at that, to keep an entire school going by herself!"
She was losing her willingness to be reasonable. She was just about to retort when Shobo spoke. "Kamiya-sensei, do you believe your father intended for you to continue on with the school in the event of his death?"
"I..." She hesitated. She could not be rude to this one. "In truth I do not know. But I am the only assistant master now, and if the school is to continue I must keep on teaching. It is my intention to do so."
"You have indeed become a young lady," the old man continued. "A young lady should be thinking of marriage and children. That is where true happiness lies, believe me."
She looked at the floor. She really did not know if her father had intended for her to continue with the school, but she knew he had always wanted her to marry. She said, "I am thankful for your counsel, Shobo-sensei. But my mind is made up. I am determined that the Kamiya Kasshin Style should live on, and I will see to it that it does."
"The issue is not whether she wants to continue teaching or not," said Isoda, speaking more to Shobo than to her now. "It is inappropriate for such a situation to continue! She is far too young and inexperienced to be the sole teacher of an entire dojo!"
Maekawa spoke up. "I can say that Kamiya-sensei is very skilled. I believe she can teach the Kamiya Kasshin Style, despite her youth."
"Very skilled, eh?" said Isoda. He sounded as if he had been waiting for someone to say just that thing. Kaoru did not like the look in his eyes. "Well, if that is the truth, then she should be willing to demonstrate this, should she not?"
"What do you mean?" Maekawa said.
"Well, perhaps a test would be in order. If she were to beat our assistant masters, then it would prove she has the necessary skill to continue teaching."
Maekawa clearly did not know what to make of that. He said, "I do not think that is a realistic test."
"I accept the challenge," Kaoru said.
It was quiet for a moment after that. As if he had achieved some victory, Isoda said, "Excellent. I will bring my assistant master, Wakatsuki, by this afternoon. Shobo-sensei?"
The old man looked a bit uncomfortable. She wondered if he thought the test was appropriate. She reminded herself that he was nearly seventy. A man that age could sometimes be bullied by forceful younger men. After a moment he said, "Very well. I will bring Omori."
"Good," said Isoda, who evidently saw himself as the coordinator of this event. "Maekawa?"
Maekawa shot him an angry look. "I never agreed to this!"
"She agreed to it!" Isoda said.
"This is your plan, Gonshiro, and I'll have no part of it-"
"Kamiya-sensei did agree to the idea, Maekawa-sensei," said Shobo, with something like sadness.
Maekawa's brows furrowed. He said, "Very well. I will bring my assistant, Raikatsuji Niou." It seemed as though he had to force the words out.
Kaoru's hopes for victory were dashed. She could not beat Niou, she knew. She had sparred with him many times, but had never beaten him. But if she could not beat him now...
She realized Shobo was speaking to her. "Is this acceptable, Kamiya-sensei?"
"Yes," she said.
After that the men rose to leave. She bowed deeply to Shobo, and somewhat less deeply to Isoda. Those two left; Maekawa remained for a moment.
"I am sorry for this, Kaoru-chan," he said. "Isoda said we should look out for your welfare. I should have known he would only want to shut you down. This test, I... It isn't the way I wanted things to go. You know Niou's strength. Wakatsuki and Omori will be strong, too. They are assistant masters. They will likely know some succession techniques. If you get hurt..."
"I understand, and don't worry," she replied. "I don't think I will get hurt, and if I do... then maybe Isoda is right."
"I don't believe he is." She gave him a little smile for that. He smiled back, then turned to go.
She was waiting at the gate when Isoda arrived back several hours later. He was accompanied by his assistant master, Wakatsuki Isoshi. Kaoru did not know the man well. He was around thirty, tall and quite muscular. His hair was swept back but unrestrained, and he carried a shinai. His gi was light blue, over white hakama pants. He had a superior look on his face as he greeted her; he learned much from Isoda, it seemed. She showed them to the dojo and went back out to wait for the others.
Shobo arrived shortly, flanked by his assistant master, Omori Hirokichi. He was about forty, older than Isoda or Wakatsuki. He was slim and shorter than Wakatsuki, but there was a definite feeling of power to him. He wore a white gi and red hakama pants. His hair was pulled into a very precise topknot. He, too, carried a shinai.
Just after that Maekawa arrived with Niou. She was both happy and dejected to see them. She did not want to fight Niou, not for this. He smiled at her good-naturedly, but with a bit of sorrow. She knew he would never hold back in a fight. If he had to play this game, he would play to win. He was twenty-seven and quite handsome. His hair was short and parted like a Westerner's. He wore a white gi and light green hakama pants. His shinai was strapped to his back.
"It is good to see you, Kaoru-chan," he said. "I wish it were not for this, though."
"So do I," she said. "The others are already here."
She herself wore a white gi and dark blue hakama pants. Her hair was tied back. She was ready.
They went into the dojo. Isoda and Wakatsuki were kneeling to the left. Omori was on the right, and Maekawa and Niou went over next to him. Shobo stood near the altar. Kaoru kneeled in the center of the room.
Shobo said, "We all know why we are here. Present are the masters and assistant masters of the major schools of kenjutsu in Tokyo. It is our wish that through this meeting, it can be determined whether the Kamiya Kasshin School should be continued or disbanded. There will be three contests, between Kamiya Kaoru and Wakatsuki Isoshi, Omori Hirokichi, and Raikatsuji Niou. If Kamiya-sensei can defeat these three, it will be accepted by all that she shall continue to teach the Kamiya Kasshin Style." He paused, then said, "Now we begin."
Kaoru stood and turned to Wakatsuki. He stood and moved to the center of the room. They both bowed to each other, then raised their shinai.
Kaoru had been in many matches before, but this felt very different. She had, on occasion, seen her father fight real battles. She wondered if this was what that felt like.
Wakatsuki hurled himself forward and stabbed at her face. She ducked under the strike and stabbed back at his stomach. He swung his shinai down in a fast arc and swatted hers aside. Then he aimed a downward slash at her shoulder. She sidestepped and, rising, swung at his legs. He hopped back out of range, and they faced each other again. He came in again, fast, and swung hard at her midsection. She blocked, but the force of the blow made her almost lose her balance. Sensing this, he came at her, throwing blow after blow. She stopped each one but had to step back several times.
He aimed a wide, powerful cut at her head. She ducked under it and swung from her right at his legs. He jumped into the air and did a full forward flip over her attack, coming down past her. She cut only air. She realized she had swung too hard. She couldn't reverse, so she kept swinging to her left and let the momentum carry her around. By the time she was back facing Wakatsuki he had landed and was stabbing at her body. She kept on swinging, but changed the angle so it swept his attack aside instead of striking at him. He suddenly pushed his shoulder forward and shoved against her. She lost her balance and fell to the floor.
He shouted, "Ha!" and came toward her, swinging his shinai down at her stomach. She rolled away and came to her feet in one motion. When his downward slash missed he immediately changed to a stab, but she parried it to her left and then swung at his face. He jerked away, and they faced each other again.
She was breathing hard. So was he, but as they watched each other his breathing slowed. Calmness seemed to come over him. They both had their shinais held before them, but then he shifted so the shinai was to his right. She readied herself for whatever might happen.
He said, "Isoda Isui Style... Eienkyou." Then he came forward and swung straight in from his right. She had little trouble blocking, since he had been in a position to do just that. But the instant she blocked, he pulled back to swing again. For just a moment she thought it was another sideways slash. Then she saw that Wakatsuki had changed direction slightly. The attack came from his upper right. She blocked that too, and he immediately came in again, from the lower right.
She blocked again and he swung again, and again and again. He attacked from the upper right, right, and lower right in no apparent pattern. She had little trouble blocking at first, but the attacks seemed to come more quickly as it went on. Her arms started to ache from the force of the blows. It did not help that she was always blocking to her own left, a little more difficult than blocking to the right. That was probably part of this Eienkyou attack. She realized that sooner or later she would not block in the right direction. What was she to do?
An attack came from her upper left. She ducked under it rather than block. She read the surprise on Wakatsuki's face. She stabbed at his chest. He managed to jerk back far enough to avoid it, but she simply kept coming forward with the shinai thrust forward. He stumbled as he tried to move to the side. She swung in that direction, and her shinai slapped against his stomach. He looked down in shock, and just for good measure she pulled back and swung at his legs. The shinai connected solidly.
He stumbled back away from her and looked around wildly. Kaoru looked at the men, too. Isoda was angry; Maekawa looked pleased. Shobo's face was unreadable. Niou looked almost sad, and she knew why. If she beat Omori, he would have to fight her.
Shobo said, "That will do, Wakatsuki-kun." Wakatsuki shot a hate-filled look at Kaoru and went to sit by Isoda, who looked at him with disgust. "Do you wish to take a break, Kamiya-sensei?"
She said, "I just need a drink of water. If you will excuse me..." She bowed and went outside.
As she left she heard Maekawa say, "That shoulder shove was poorly done, Wakatsuki," and the beginning of a retort from Isoda. She went to the water pump and ran some down on her hands and splashed it on her face. She drank a little and wiped her mouth with her sleeve.
When she got back to the dojo, Omori was going through some exercises with the shinai. All eyes turned to her. "I'm ready."
She and Omori took position in the middle of the room. This fight would be more difficult, she knew. Omori was better than Wakatsuki. She looked into his eyes, searching for his intention. Was he fighting simply because Shobo told him to, or was he fighting to destroy the Kamiya Kasshin Style? The essence of the Shobo Shoumu Style lay in achieving personal glory, not for its own sake but so that the wielder could achieve good in the world through stature. Was that what Omori fought for? She tried to see the answer, and realized it did not matter. She fought for the Kamiya Kasshin Style. All that mattered was that she fought hard enough.
She burst forward and slashed from the right at Omori's head. Though surprised, he was quick enough to duck under the slash. She had counted on that. As soon as her attack missed she turned her shinai in a quick downward circle and brought it toward him again, this time from the lower left. He blocked and stabbed at her stomach. She took one step to her right and swung at his midsection. He barely managed to dance out of the way.
She gave him no break. She circled around him and threw stabbing attacks at him in a continuous wave. He was so caught up in parrying her blows he threw no attacks at her for a time. She knew she would tire from this. She stabbed at his face. He instinctively flinched even as he parried her thrust to his left. She used the force of his parry and spun completely around to her right. In the same motion she swung her shinai at his midsection. He jerked back to avoid it. She almost went after him again, but she caught the wary look in his eyes. She held her ground and collected herself, slowing her breathing and watching him.
She could read his caution in his stance. He had been surprised by her aggression; it had rather surprised her, too. His defensive skills were solid, though, and she knew it would be difficult to get through them.
He said, "Shobo Shoumu Style... Kimirai!" He took his right hand off the hilt of his shinai and placed it, palm flat, against the back of the "blade," near the crosspiece. His left hand stayed on the hilt. She readied herself for whatever he was doing. He came towards her, not especially quickly, and swung the shinai in from her left. She blocked, but the force of the attack was much greater than she had anticipated. He almost pushed through. She gripped her own shinai tightly to keep from losing it.
He came in again, this time from above. She was better braced this time, and the attack was blocked. She tried to think of how his attacks were working. She realized that by putting his right hand against the blade, he was able to get greater leverage on it. That increased the power of his strikes. It also seemed to decrease his range. He could not stretch his attacks out as far with one hand on the blade.
She got as far as she could from him and swung her shinai down and left. He blocked and countered, swinging left at her. She pulled her hips back so the swing cut only air and swung at his head. He jerked away and she came at him again, swinging so the very tip of her shinai would connect but she was still outside the range of his Kimirai. He did not bother to block, just dodged. She threw more attacks at him but could not connect. She got so caught up in her attacks she almost did not see the low thrust he did, using only his left hand. She was leaning too far forward to dodge and barely got her shinai down to parry. With only his left hand, though, there was not as much force behind the attack, and she knocked it away easily.
Then she knew. She waited for him to come at her again. He did, using the Kimirai to swing down and left. She did not block, but rather aimed a counter-attack at his shinai. She brought her shinai up and left. It smacked against his. His shinai slipped away from his right hand so he held it only with the left. It swung wildly above her head and she came in with a fast thrust. Her shinai caught him in the chest.
They just stood there, breathing hard and looking at each other. Omori looked over at Shobo. The old man looked grim but not surprised. He said, "Kamiya-sensei has won again."
Omori Hirokichi's shoulders slumped, but he did not shoot any hateful looks at Kaoru. He did not look on her with any great affection, either, but that was understandable. No one liked to lose. He went back to sit by Maekawa, who was beaming as if Kaoru were his own daughter. Wakatsuki wore a small grin, probably because Omori, who was generally regarded as a better swordsman than him, had lost as well. Isoda looked even more annoyed.
Niou looked strange, though. She had expected him to look even more saddened than before, since they would now have to fight. But instead he looked as if he were deep in thought.
Shobo said, "Do you need a break, Kamiya-sensei?"
She was tired, but determination was racing through her and she said, "No, I am ready."
Niou got to his feet and pulled his shinai from his back. He came to the center of the room and faced her, but not in a fighting stance. He held his shinai so it hung next to his leg and just looked at her.
She tried to think of what he was doing. Does he want me to attack? Is he going to throw the match? She couldn't believe that could be true. He would never shame her by pretending to lose, especially in front of these men who would know what he did.
Then Niou seemed to relax. He tossed his shinai onto the floor in front of her. "I yield," he said.
Kaoru's mouth dropped open in shock. Isoda exploded to his feet and roared, "What is this, Maekawa?! Did you tell him to do this?!"
Kaoru looked at Maekawa, who seemed no less surprised than she was. He stared at Niou in shock. "I-I had nothing to do with this." Omori and Wakatsuki looked suspicious.
Isoda rounded on Niou and said, "What are you playing at here?!"
"I am not playing at anything," said Niou quietly. "I cannot defeat her, not now."
Isoda glared at him a moment more before turning to Shobo. "Shobo-sensei, this is obviously some sort of trick! We all know Raikatsuji's skill! And yet he claims this child can defeat him!"
Shobo was quiet for a long time, and the force of his gaze seemed to calm the others. They simply watched him respectfully. At last he said, "Raikatsuji-kun is indeed skilled. Skilled enough to recognize that he would not be able to defeat Kamiya-sensei at the present time."
Isoda's mouth opened again, but to protest further would imply that Shobo's judgment of the situation was incorrect. Even Isoda would not be so bold.
Shobo grasped his cane and stood up slowly. He came over to stand before Kaoru. "Kamiya-sensei, do you know all the techniques of the Kamiya Kasshin Style? Including the succession techniques?"
"Yes, Shobo-sensei," she said. She had not successfully used all the techniques, but she knew them.
He bowed his head and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he said, "I cannot see any reason for the Kamiya Dojo to close at this time. Train your students well, Kamiya-sensei."
She was too overwhelmed to respond. Maekawa and Niou came over to congratulate her, and she thanked them. Omori looked at her and said, "Thank you for the match, Kamiya-sensei. I believe I learned much from it, even if that was not the point."
She bowed to him and said, "Thank you as well, Omori-san. You are worthy of the Shobo Shoumu Style."
He bowed back, and he and Shobo took their leave. Isoda glared at her and stalked out. Wakatsuki had the decency to bow stiffly first. Maekawa said, "I wouldn't drop by the Isoda Dojo any time soon, Kaoru-chan."
She smiled. "I had not had any plans to do so anyway."
Maekawa and Niou stayed a few minutes longer, then left with smiles, bows, and more congratulations. After they were gone, she went and took a cold bath; she was too tired to worry about heating it. She ate some cold rice alone for her dinner, then sat reading a book for a little while.
It was night, and she went into her room and dressed for bed. She blew out her candle and got under her covers. Then she let out the thoughts and feelings she had been avoiding all day. She thought of her father. She had successfully defended the school. It was the only thing she had to remember him by, the most important thing in her life now that he was gone. She was proud, but at the same time she missed him so much it hurt in her chest. He had been a stern man, rarely given to affection. But he had loved her and wanted only the best for her. She thought of him and cried for a very long time.
Myoujin Yahiko trailed after his target. The man was around forty, short and heavy, with the fine clothing that indicated wealth. He was also obviously drunk.
Yahiko had decided he would make a good target on that basis. The fact that it was only noon and there were crowds of people everywhere only made things easier. He waited until the man stopped to look at a fruit seller's wares. He walked over behind him, and, in an instant when the fruit seller looked in another direction, Yahiko reached around the drunk and into a pocket. Feeling a coin purse, he snatched it away as light as a feather and walked away.
Only then did he allow himself to dwell on the weight of the purse. It was satisfyingly heavy, and he broke into a grin. He hurried on down the street in the same direction as he had followed the man. He had been taught that; never change directions right after lifting something, or people will notice. He rounded a corner and circled the entire block.
Finally, he got back to the alley where Mihashi Kanjiro waited. Kanjiro was about twenty-five. His appearance was as disheveled as ever. He wore a simple blue robe, and his jaw had a constant shadow of hair. He carried a stick of smooth wood casually, but Yahiko knew there was a sword inside, and even people who didn't know that gave the man a wide berth. He appeared every bit the thug he was. Yahiko had seen young women give him shy looks when he half-smiled at them. He always half-smiled; Yahiko did not know why.
For all that, he was Yahiko's best friend, and the boy broke into a grin when he saw him. He rushed up, excited, and said, "Look what I got, Kanjiro!" He held out the coin purse. Kanjiro took it and gave Yahiko a half-smile at the weight. "I got it off an old man. He was drunk. This early in the morning, can you believe that? What a moron!"
Kanjiro said, "Did being drunk mean he deserved to have his money stolen?"
Yahiko's pride at the good take instantly vanished. He had heard the tone in Kanjiro's voice before. He thought for a second, and then looked at his feet. "No. No, I guess not."
Kanjiro kneeled down and put a hand on Yahiko's shoulder. Yahiko couldn't bring himself to look up, not because he was scared but because he couldn't bear to see disapproval from Kanjiro. Kanjiro said, "You steal things because... because you have a debt to pay." There was a strange tone to his voice. Yahiko had noticed it before when Kanjiro mentioned the debt he owed the boss. "But we should never take pride in it."
"R-Right," said Yahiko.
"Still... You did a pretty good job." Yahiko looked up. Kanjiro was still giving him the half-grin, and he relaxed. Kanjiro opened the purse. "There's a lot here. Let's go get some candy."
Yahiko smiled, and it was okay again.
They went back to the hideout later. Some guys were in front drinking. As they got close, Yahiko heard something about "those Nakatoni bastards." The men broke off, though, and one, Mitsuoki, shouted, "Oy, Kanjiro, have a drink with us!"
Kanjiro said, "In a little while. Is the boss in?"
"Yeah, he's inside."
Yahiko and Kanjiro entered the building. Some other guys were playing dice just inside. Kanjiro said, "Wait out here, Yahiko."
Yahiko said, "Okay." He hardly ever saw the boss, and that was fine with him. Kanjiro went through a door to the boss's office. Yahiko sat down to watch the game, although he didn't really like dice. He knew the guys cheated every chance they got. Kanjiro had taught him that cheating was wrong, but lessons like that were wasted on these thugs.
It didn't take long before a fight broke out, over accusations of cheating that were no doubt true. Yahiko stumbled back to lean against a wall as far away from the combatants as he could get. Then another man came into the room. He was tall, and his hair stood up in a point on his head that made him even taller.
Gasuke, the manslayer, shouted, "Hey, you jerks, knock it off!" Yahiko knew he was happy, though. He always got happy when fights broke out.
Two of the gamblers were rolling on the ground, punching each other. Gasuke raised his stick - another trick sword, like Kanjiro's - and brought it down on one man's back. The guy yelped in pain and fell away from the other one. He looked up at Gasuke and said, "W-Why did you hit me? He's the one who was cheating!"
"I don't care which one of you was cheating!" shouted Gasuke. "You were on top, so you get hit! There's no fighting here! This is a respectable establishment!"
Yeah, right, thought Yahiko. The men backed away from Gasuke, who, evidently deciding that justice had once again prevailed, lowered his stick. He glanced over at Yahiko. Yahiko tried not to look afraid. Whenever Kanjiro wasn't around, he was liable to get a smack in the face from Gasuke.
This time, though, Gasuke just scowled and went through the door Kanjiro had gone through. Yahiko let out a breath he had not realized he was holding.
"What do you have for me today?" said Tanishi, leader of the Shuei Yakuza. He was an old man, short and stout, with a full head of gray hair and a bulbous nose.
Kanjiro, kneeling before him, took out the coin purse and shook out the contents.
"Good, good," said Tanishi. "Yahiko is coming along nicely. He is a good earner. I am sure he will have his debt paid off in just a few years."
Kanjiro scowled. "Why do you lie to people who already know the truth? Yahiko owes you nothing!"
"Yes, but you owe me something!" said Tanishi angrily. Kanjiro expected it; Tanishi always became irritable when Kanjiro brought this up. And Kanjiro brought it up often. Irritating Tanishi was one of the few things that could brighten his day. "I saved your life from the Imperialists who would have killed you! You swore to serve me, and I told you not to tell Yahiko anything!"
"I have not told him anything, and I will not, ever. I keep my word." Yes, and aren't I honorable? he added inwardly.
"See that you do!" Just then the door slid open and Gasuke entered. "Ah, Gasuke," said Tanishi.
"Boss," said Gasuke. He did not say anything to Kanjiro, just sneered, which was typical. He kneeled down next to Kanjiro and bowed his head to Tanishi.
"What is going on in the streets?" said Tanishi.
"Things are quiet, boss," said Gasuke. "I guess tipping the police off to Chishu Kiminobu's location has paid off."
"They took him last night?" asked Tanishi.
"Yup. Everything is going as planned. With him in jail our guys will have a monopoly on gambling within a year. His brother, Dayu, is too timid to move against us alone."
"You're an idiot, Gasuke," said Kanjiro.
Gasuke rounded on him angrily. "What did you say?!"
"You heard me. Dayu may be timid, but there's no way he's going to ignore his brother being taken by the police. He'll know it was us that told them."
"Well... Well, what's he going to do anyway? He can't touch us! Not as long as I'm here!"
Kanjiro rolled his eyes. Gasuke said, "You..." and came up onto one knee. Kanjiro looked back at him, calmly, and saw the doubt enter Gasuke's eyes.
The boss rescued the manslayer, though. "Boys, boys," said Tanishi. "Let's not have any fighting amongst ourselves. We are all friends here." Gasuke settled back down again. "Now here's what I want you both to do. This quiet may be a good thing or a bad thing. I want you to find out. Are they laying low out of fear, or are they planning something big? You'll find that out, won't you, boys?”
"Right," said Gasuke.
Kanjiro rose to leave. "I'm afraid that might mean Yahiko and I won't be able to earn quite as much for a while, if I'm spending time on this. It might take longer to pay off his 'debt.'"
Tanishi scowled as Kanjiro left the room. Gasuke looked at the boss, waiting for him to speak. Tanishi, still looking at the door, said, "That one... He is close to being more trouble than he is worth." He looked back at Gasuke.
Gasuke caught the look in his eyes.
The next day, Kanjiro and Yahiko were hanging around the hideout. Around noon Kanjiro said, "I have to go somewhere, Yahiko. I need you to stay here."
"I can't come with you?"
"No, not for this. But I'll be back soon. Keep out of trouble, and stay away from Gasuke if you can."
Yahiko smiled. "You don't need to tell me to do that."
Kanjiro gave him a half-smile in return and went out to the street. The best person to talk to to find out if the Nakatoni syndicate was planning anything was a bartender named Ichisada. Kanjiro went to his place, a rough establishment where fights were common. The clientele when he arrived was the same as ever, a scattering of old men drinking sake and young thugs who thought they were more important than they were. Two of them were known Nakatoni men, and Kanjiro knew he would have to wait until they left before speaking to Ichisada.
Ichisada came over and said, "Kanjiro! How are you!" He was a big man, muscular in his youth and now mostly fat. He had more gray in his hair than he had when Kanjiro had seen him last, but he was still as jovial as ever, clapping Kanjiro on the back and saying how good it was to see him. "Did you need anything?"
Kanjiro smiled. "No, just a drink."
"Coming right up!"
Kanjiro drank lightly and thought. He had never been a heavy drinker, and the two Nakatoni men shot him dark looks every so often.
Finally the two men left, their eyes never leaving him as they went to the exit. After they were gone, Kanjiro stood and went back to the kitchen.
"Ah, Kanjiro!" said Ichisada. "Need something else?"
"Information."
Ichisada looked confused. "I thought you were just here for a drink."
Kanjiro sighed. He had long since given up trying to explain that some communications had to be kept secret. He did not know if it was bravery or stupidity, but Ichisada did not know the meaning of fear. "Have you heard anything about Chishu Dayu recently?"
"I have heard that he goes to visit someone in jail almost every day," Ichisada said with a bit of mirth.
"Anything else?" Kanjiro said wearily.
The small smile on Ichisada's face disappeared. "One of the young Nakatoni men was in here earlier. He spoke a little too loudly when he told an associate that Dayu may be looking for outside help."
"That's what he said? 'Outside help?'"
"Yes."
Kanjiro shook his head. "Foolish to say it where others could hear it."
"You know how the young ones are," Ichisada said, as if Kanjiro were an old man. "They always want to look like they're on the inside of things."
"True enough. Outside help..." Kanjiro muttered. They are planning to make a move after all, he thought. But they don't have the muscle to do it. They still have the money, though.
Yahiko passed the time watching the men play dice. It was all he ever did when Kanjiro was not around. He never played himself. Some of the men had children he might have talked to or played with, but they never brought them to the hideout. It was no place for children.
After a while he went outside to just sit in the sun. He saw Gasuke come back from wherever he had been, looking annoyed. Yahiko looked at him split second too long. Gasuke noticed.
"What are you looking at, Yahiko?" he snarled.
"Nothing."
"So I'm nothing now, is that it?"
"I didn't say that!"
"Shut up!" He swung his stick down at Yahiko. Yahiko jumped aside and it struck only the ground, but it was moving again an instant later. The stick smacked against his ribs and he went to one knee. Gasuke said, "You never show me any respect, just because you have Kanjiro to protect you!" He leaned in close and Yahiko smelled his foul breath. "But Kanjiro won't be around forever..."
"Gasuke!" Kanjiro's voice sounded like a gunshot. "Get away from him!" He stepped into view from the gate at the fence.
"What if I don't? You seem to think you're in charge of me, Kanjiro! You need to learn that you're not!" With that, Gasuke drew the sword from his trick staff.
Kanjiro gazed at him levelly, and Yahiko was proud to see that not a hint of fear showed in his features. Kanjiro drew his own sword.
Just then the door of the hideout slid open and the boss came out, flanked by a couple of enforcers. He looked at the two men, staring each other down with drawn swords, and roared, "What is going on out here?!"
Kanjiro said, "I came back to find Gasuke beating Yahiko. I will not allow it any longer."
Tanishi looked at Gasuke, who snarled, "So what if I was? I'm the best fighter in this syndicate! I can do what I want!"
"I will not allow it any longer," Kanjiro repeated with a deadly calm.
Tanishi coughed up his voice, then said, "Well, er... It seems to me we have a conflict here, my boys, and I cannot allow that. It is apparent you must settle this with swords. I will permit that, but you must use the blunt edge. We cannot afford to be killing each other here. Do you agree, Kanjiro?"
Kanjiro said, "Yes."
"Do you agree, Gasuke?"
It seemed to Yahiko that there was something strange in the way the boss looked at Gasuke then, and also something strange in the way Gasuke looked back. Gasuke said, "I agree."
The two men moved to a distance apart of about ten feet. Other men scrambled away to gather anyone who might not have heard the commotion. Yahiko climbed a small tree in the yard so he could see. He was both worried and excited. He had seen Kanjiro draw his sword before, but never use it. Gasuke was less inhibited. He liked to cut men occasionally.
By the time Tanishi went out to stand between the two, about twenty men had gathered. There was a great deal of loud, excited whispering as the men wagered on the outcome of the fight. Tanishi cut through it all with a loud voice. "Listen up, all of you. This is a duel of honor between Kanjiro and Gasuke. It involves no one else, and when it is over we will all be friends again. I will hear no talk of vengeance, is that understood?" Even Yahiko knew the little speech was an empty one, but the gathered men spoke their agreement. Tanishi looked at Kanjiro, who gave a curt nod, then at Gasuke, who did the same. The boss stepped off to the side.
Kanjiro and Gasuke faced each other, with swords turned backwards so they would strike with the blunted side. Yahiko, never having seen such a duel before, held his breath without realizing it. Then the men were in motion.
As the two came together Gasuke swung his sword down at Kanjiro's head. Kanjiro moved by shifting his left foot to the right and the sword passed by him harmlessly. He swung at Gasuke's legs. Gasuke jumped up and back, and Kanjiro's sword went under him. As he landed Kanjiro was coming at him again. Kanjiro swung down and to the left. Gasuke stabbed at Kanjiro's face in response. Kanjiro jerked his head to the side and stopped his attack.
Something about that worried at Yahiko's mind, something about the way their swords were turned to prevent killing each other. He couldn't figure out what was bothering him, though, so he kept his mind on the fight. The other men were shouting words of encouragement or derision, and the betting was continuing.
Gasuke swung down at Kanjiro's head again. Kanjiro spun to the side in a complete circle to avoid it and came around swinging at Gasuke's midsection. Gasuke barely got his sword around in time to block, and even so it was clumsy and off-balance. The shouts from the men got louder as he stumbled away from Kanjiro. Kanjiro came after him, making a quick succession of attacks. Gasuke was clearly hard put to defend himself. He caught his footing and made a wild, fast slash at Kanjiro's head.
In one motion, Kanjiro ducked, spun in another complete circle, and moved forward and to Gasuke's right. His sword struck the back of Gasuke's knees. Gasuke started to crumple before everyone's eyes, a look of pain on his face. Kanjiro, never stopping, spun back in yet another complete circle, this time rising as he did so. His sword, again propelled by the spin, slammed into Gasuke's chest so hard it knocked him right off his feet.
Gasuke landed in a cloud of dust. It looked like he might try to rise, but he only got a couple of inches off the ground before falling again. The men who had bet on Kanjiro cheered, and Yahiko joined them. Men rushed forward to clap Kanjiro on the back and proclaim that they had been certain he would win. Amidst all the confusion, Kanjiro looked up at Yahiko and gave him a little half-smile. Yahiko gave him a huge grin in return.
"Kanjiro!" Tanishi roared. "I said that no one was to get hurt in your foolish duel!"
A couple of men who were loyal to Gasuke were helping him stand up. He yelled, "You saw it, Boss! He had no restraint at all!"
Kanjiro looked at Gasuke with pure hatred. "Just because you weren't capable of defending yourself doesn't mean I was trying to kill you."
A few men said things like "Yeah!" and "Quit complaining, Gasuke!" Then more men joined in until there was a deafening roar.
Tanishi raised his hands for silence, and eventually the men quieted down. It took a while, though. Yahiko thought that many of the men did not really respect the boss, and wondered how the man had come to a position of relative power in the Tokyo underworld. He was not a fighter, nor especially charismatic. When he asked Kanjiro about it once, Kanjiro had said, "You can't turn your back on a man like Tanishi." He left it at that. Yahiko had not really understood, but he followed the advice all the same.
Now the boss said, "All right, it is over! The duel has been fought, and both men are alive. That is an end to it!"
"Not so fast," said Kanjiro. The boss was clearly angered by his impertinent tone, but if Kanjiro moderated it Yahiko could not tell. "I want his word that he will never again strike Yahiko. That was what the duel was fought for! Do you hear me, Gasuke? Never again!"
Tanishi said, "Er, well, yes. That was the point of the duel. Gasuke, do you agree to these terms?"
But the boss had, Yahiko knew, become completely extraneous to this confrontation. The force of Kanjiro's contemptuous gaze commanded the yard, and Gasuke, leaning on a crony's shoulder, was unable to turn away. "F-Fine," he finally managed.
After that the men were congratulating Kanjiro as the boss left and Gasuke was helped away. The guys insisted Kanjiro go out celebrating. He said, "Later tonight, okay?" The guys accepted this, and finally Kanjiro disengaged himself. He came over to Yahiko and kneeled down. "You okay?"
Caught up in the excitement of the duel, Yahiko had almost forgotten it had started because Gasuke was beating him. "Yeah, I'm fine!"
"Then let's get out of here."
They walked out to the street and went down to a little stream nearby. Kanjiro splashed a little water on his face, then settled back onto the grass. Yahiko sat with him. He couldn't contain himself any more. "You were great, Kanjiro! I had no idea you were so strong!"
Kanjiro gave him a half-smile. "Thanks."
"Was that Yagyuu Shinkage Style swordsmanship?" It was the only style he had ever heard of.
Kanjiro chuckled. "No, I'm not quite that strong. It was Samuka Style swordsmanship. That is the style I was trained in."
"Well, that must be stronger than Yagyuu Shinkage, then! No one could beat you! The way you spun around and did those hits, I thought you'd break Gasuke's bones!"
"I might have, if I hadn't pulled the blows a little. Just a little," he added, giving Yahiko a wink. Yahiko chuckled. "One of the teachings of the Samuka Style is to put one's entire body into an attack. Spinning is one of the ways you can do this. The strike at the back of his knees was the Hyoufuu attack. Then I moved into the Nadare attack, where I came around to hit his chest. Those two together will take the fight out of almost anyone."
Yahiko was thrilled. He was hearing secrets of swordsmanship from a real samurai. Well, maybe not a real samurai, but someone close enough as made no difference. Kanjiro was a man of honor; he had always known that. Now he also knew he was a man of strength. He wanted to know more. "I don't think he even saw you attack!"
"That was due to another teaching of the Samuka Style. You will have more success in your battles if your enemy cannot see you. So if you dodge to the side before you attack, and they're not ready for it, you can prevent them from blocking."
They talked a while longer, until it was dark. Then they went and got some dinner at a little roadside stand. Yahiko could hardly remember ever being so happy.
When they went back to the hideout, things were quiet. No one was gambling, and there were not many men around. When they came into the main room, Mitsuoki said, "Oy, Kanjiro. The boss wants to see you." He looked concerned.
Kanjiro said, "Okay. Yahiko, why don't you go to bed?"
"B-But I want to know what's going on!"
"If it's anything important, I'll let you know. Go on, now."
"Okay," Yahiko said. He went, casting a last glance at Kanjiro before going into the small room he shared with four other guys.
Kanjiro went into Tanishi's chamber. Gasuke was there. He shot a hate-filled glance at Kanjiro, but Kanjiro thought he also sensed something else in the look. It might have been fear, but whether it was of him or of something else...
Kanjiro kneeled next to Gasuke. Tanishi said, "Were you able to discover anything about the Nakatonis, Kanjiro?" He sounded unusually somber.
"I heard of a boast one of the Nakatoni men had made, that they were bringing in 'outside help,' but I don't know what was meant by it."
"I do," Tanishi said gravely. "An associate who happens to be employed at the Nakatoni hideout said they had a visitor. An assassin called Hideki Rosanjin."
"The Yoruma?"
"Yes."
Kanjiro grimaced. The Yoruma was said to be a ghost who came in the night. He was completely invisible, and could not be struck by swords. Kanjiro himself did not believe it, but it was accepted fact that no one targeted by Hideki had lived. "What do you intend to do?" he asked.
"Do?" Tanishi replied. The old meanness was back in his voice. "Why, you are going to fight him, Kanjiro."
"Fight him? Fight the one who has killed each and every target he has ever had? The one who cannot be seen? Just how do you expect me to fight him?"
"With your sword," Tanishi said, with real anger this time. "You are the most skilled fighter in this gang. That was proved beyond all doubt this afternoon." Gasuke clenched his teeth but said nothing. "If you're going to demonstrate your skill in such a manner you had better be prepared to back it up, my boy."
"How do you even know Chishu Dayu will consent to such a fight? Usually the Yoruma just comes and kills whoever he wants."
"Dayu has already consented. I sent him a challenge, and he responded. You fight the Yoruma at midnight."
Kanjiro stared at Tanishi, wondering at this bizarre situation. Gasuke was smirking, but Tanishi just gazed back at Kanjiro. He could read nothing in the boss's features. He knew why. Tanishi was animated enough when it came to his own power or money, but when the subject was death he had as much feeling as a stone. And the subject was death, wasn't it? No one had gone against Hideki and lived. He could not realistically think he would.
He took a deep breath and said, "Very well. Tonight."
Yahiko was awoken from a deep sleep by a hand shaking his shoulder. A voice whispered, "Yahiko."
He sat up in the darkness and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Kanjiro was kneeling next to his bed. Yahiko looked at him, but could not see his features well enough to get any clue what was going on. "Kanjiro? What's happening?"
"Nothing, I... I have something I have to go do, and before I did, I just wanted to tell you something."
His voice sounded strange, thick somehow. He fell silent for such a long time that Yahiko said, "What is it?"
It was still a moment longer before Kanjiro said, "Yahiko, your parents..." He broke off again.
Another moment went by. In the dim starlight, Yahiko thought he saw Kanjiro's face glisten. Was he crying? No, that couldn't be. Kanjiro was not one to cry.
Finally Kanjiro said, "Your parents... were samurai, Yahiko. A samurai has pride, and so did they. You are samurai as well, and someday you will have to make a choice based on pride. I... I don't expect you to understand this now, but when that day comes, remember: your parents were samurai."
Yahiko didn't really understand, but he said, "O-Okay."
Kanjiro rose and turned to leave. Yahiko said, "Wait, let me come with you!"
Kanjiro turned back and said, "Not tonight. Go back to sleep, now."
Yahiko watched him leave. He lay back down and tried to figure out what Kanjiro had been talking about. He felt like there was something else to what Kanjiro had said, but he could not think of what it could be. After a while, he turned on his side and drifted off.
Kanjiro walked through the black streets, his way lighted just a bit by the candle he carried. No one was out this late, which was better, he supposed. Whether he died or killed, he did not think it was something for the eyes of bystanders. Not in this Meiji era.
Kanjiro never thought much about that. To him, it did not seem to be all that different from the days of the Tokugawa. Men still gambled and killed each other. A few men still ran the country as they pleased. It seemed that the danger of foreign colonization was passing, which was good. But all in all, for him, things were probably the same as they would have been had the Shogun never fallen.
Except he would not owe his life to scum like Tanishi.
He reached the street that Tanishi had told him to go to. It was pitch black. He could barely make out the low buildings around him. He wondered whether Tanishi or Chishu Dayu had chosen the spot. He didn't think it mattered.
His candle hardly gave him any light at all. He decided to draw his sword. He kept his breath as quiet as possible, the better to hear what was around him.
Then there was pain in his left shoulder. He knew he had been cut, but he had not heard anything at all. He slashed the darkness to his left. He felt his sword hit something and heard a clash of metal.
After that there was silence again. The pain in his shoulder was bad, but he was still able to focus. He was sure he had not hit his attacker, but he had hit metal. Hideki used a sword, like anyone else. He was no demon or ghost.
Laughter sounded from somewhere. There were strange echoes, and he could not pinpoint the source. Then Hideki spoke.
"Well done, swordsman!" he said. "It has been a long time since someone was able to move quickly enough to strike back at me! Of course, you did not hit me, but you should be proud enough for trying!"
Kanjiro looked around wildly. He forced the rising panic down and thought. He wondered if it had been a mistake to bring the candle; it made the surrounding darkness even deeper. But now that the fight had started, it was too late. If he put out the light his eyes would not adjust quickly enough.
A glimmer...
He felt another slash, across the outside of his right thigh. He slashed in that direction as quickly as he could, and again struck only metal. The laughter came again.
Kanjiro gritted his teeth against the pain and concentrated. What had that glimmer been? It had been a short, thin line the same color as the meager candlelight. It flashed for an instant and was gone by the time his leg had been cut. Was it something on Hideki? But if it was, why didn't he see it the first time? Think, he told himself. Think fast.
Then it came to him. If Hideki was using a sword, and it did not flash in the candlelight, then it must have been blackened somehow. With paint, possibly. But when his sword had clashed against it, some of the paint on the edge had scraped off. If he could just hold on long enough...
Another glimmer. A slash came across his chest, straight down. He stabbed forward and his sword again met metal. Then he knew Hideki was gone. There was no laughter this time, at least, but the pain in his chest was bad.
The glimmer had been larger this time, two different lines of orange light to match the two times the swords had clashed. And now there should be three, he thought. Perhaps it will be enough.
He consciously slowed his breathing and made himself as still as possible. He did not try to listen; he knew he would not hear anything. He simply perceived.
He saw the glimmer again, this time out of the corner of his eye. Hideki's sword came in a sideways slash at the left side of his head. Kanjiro ducked as fast as he could and swung in that direction. He felt the sword bite and heard a gasp of pain. He tossed his candle in the direction of the gasp. It landed at the feet of an average-sized figure clothed entirely in black. Kanjiro could not even see the eyes of the figure. It held a sword that was entirely black except for the edge, which glimmered in several places.
He could not let Hideki get back into the darkness. Kanjiro held his sword in both hands and hammered at the killer. Hideki defended ably, but as he did Kanjiro noticed the large wet spot on his stomach. It was blood from Kanjiro's attack, and the stain was getting wider. Kanjiro was glad for that, but he had three wounds to Hideki's one. He had to end it, now.
He shouted, "Samuka Style... Byakukuma!" He brought his sword high into the air for a downward chop. Hideki brought his own sword up, pointing horizontally to his own left, to block. Kanjiro took a quick step forward and to Hideki's right. At the same time, he brought his sword down, without it having touched Hideki's, and pointed it sideways at Hideki's midsection. Hideki could not get his own sword down quickly enough to parry. Kanjiro stabbed sideways with both hands and leaned his weight into the strike. The sword slipped between Hideki's ribs and sank deep.
Hideki gave a small gasp. His sword slipped from his fingers and clattered on the ground. He stumbled away from Kanjiro and the Kanjiro's sword slid out of him. The black-clad killer stumbled to his knees, then fell forward. He lay flat on the ground, and his breathing stopped.
Kanjiro looked down at the body. He placed the tip of his sword on the ground and leaned against it, breathing hard.
He heard a noise louder than anything he had ever heard, like a thunderclap right next to his ear. For some reason his legs gave way and he sank to his knees. Then he felt pain, pain that made the cuts he had gotten from Hideki shrink to nonexistence. He put his hand to his chest and felt the warm wetness of his blood, spreading rapidly. He fell backwards and managed to catch himself on one elbow. He could not catch his breath.
Into the dim candlelight stepped Tanishi and Gasuke. Gasuke had his sword, sheathed since he would not need it. Tanishi held a pistol. Smoke curled from the short barrel. "T-Tanishi," Kanjiro gasped. "Why?"
"Why?" Tanishi repeated. "Because I am tired of you, Kanjiro. I am tired of your impertinence, your arrogance. You have served me well, have no doubt of that. You are far more skilled than Gasuke, or any other fighter I have." Gasuke looked annoyed, but held his tongue. "But with this defeat the power of the Nakatonis will be truly broken. I don't think I need a fighter as skilled as you any more. And this way you will never have the chance to tell Yahiko about his parents. I know you would have, eventually."
Kanjiro sank down to lie on the ground. He summoned the last of his strength and said, "I came closer tonight than I ever have to telling him. But I d-did not. I would never break my vow. You have killed me for nothing."
Tanishi shrugged. "Perhaps. But it is done now. You will die, and Yahiko will be mine forever."
Kanjiro looked at Tanishi for so long that Tanishi thought he had died. But then the corner of Kanjiro's mouth curved into a half-smile, and his eyes slid shut.
Tanishi stared at the body in annoyance. Gasuke said, "What's that smile for?"
"How should I know?" Tanishi said irritably. "Let's go, the police might be coming."
Yahiko was awoken again that night, this time by a kick to the ribs. He looked up through the darkness to see Gasuke towering over him. "What are you doing?" Yahiko said.
Gasuke leered down at him. "I just thought you would want to know that your hero, Kanjiro, died tonight."
"You're lying!" Yahiko said.
Gasuke reached down and slapped him across the cheek. "Kanjiro fought the assassin called the Yoruma and lost! He died on his knees. So you'd better start being more respectful to me, boy. You're mine now!"
And somehow, Yahiko knew it was true. He knew that Kanjiro was dead. Gasuke just stared at him, waiting for him to cry, no doubt. But he would not show tears to this creature. He clenched his teeth and stared back with all the hatred he could muster.
Eventually Gasuke looked away. He said, "You'd better get your rest, boy. Starting tomorrow you're going to be earning a lot more. You've still got a debt to pay!" With that he strode out of the room.
Yahiko watched him go, then slowly lay back down. In the darkness, alone even among the other men sleeping in the room, he started to cry.