Onna Bugeisha

女武芸者

(Women Warrior)

A/N This is a story I wrote for a uni assignment. Hope you enjoy it. Please Review

1868 Japan-

An agonised scream ripped through the air rent with the clashing of swords. They had come out of nowhere, twenty thousand strong against a mere three thousand. The Choshu, the imperialist army had come to wipe out the last remnants of the old era, through the purging of Aizu and it's great castle. Even the 'useless' women were called to defend Wakamatsu Castle, with no hope of ever surviving…

Drawing in ragged gasps Nakano Takeko, master of the naginata fell to the ground, an arrow protruding from her chest. Her raven tresses tied back in a simple knot at the back of her head framed by her white headband, splayed across the ground like spilt ink, staining the already tainted ground. The armour, normally reserved for the samurai of Aizu, adorned her slim petite figure, making her look more like a delicate dress up doll then the skilled warrior she was. Her crimson blade glinted faintly in her weak grasp, as she stared at the sky, trying to digest the fact that she had been struck. She clawed feebly at the arrow but ceased after seeing it to be impossible to remove without assistance.

As her lifeblood drained from her wound Nakano thought wryly about the displeasure her husband would treat her with if either of them survived. He had never approved of having a 'warrior' wife and had treated her with open disdain on more then one occasion. Though, without her training she would have not been able to slay the dozens of men littered around her, she would have been shivering in fear with all the other women and children, and that was something her honour would not allow. The metallic smell of blood now overwhelmed her senses, along with the stench of smoke and gunpowder casting the battlefield into a haze of desperation and despair.

As she lay dying she reflected…

She had always felt strange, out of place. Whether that had been caused by her odd looks or mannerisms, her father had seen immediately that she was meant to fight. Nakano's height and dark features made her ideal for stealth missions, and once she was an accomplished swordswoman she was employed as a shadow assassin. How many men had she slain with her bloody sword? After numerous assignments her opponents faces blurred together. She eradicated the filth of the Choshu rebels in the shadows of night, while fulfilling her duties as the wife to a high-ranking samurai in Wakamatsu Castle. Her skill grew and soon they had no time to even scream. They became just another mission; another person that had to die, and she abandoned her humanity to follow the path of chaos and death.

Only after the news of her sister's murder by the hands of the Choshu did she realise what she had done. She was no different to them, in that they fought for their lives and their beliefs by the sword. Her dear sister, another causality in this bloody war was a heavy price to pay for her to recognize the cost of her actions. Taking husbands from wives, fathers from children, brothers from brothers…ripping families apart. With this knowledge she forswore the use of swordsmanship forever.

Life had been simple since then. Get up, feed husband, do work, sleep. A mindless schedule put in place by the traditions binding her to the simple life- that is, until the imperial army came to call. Storming the castle with numbers beyond count, beyond care. She had know as soon as she laid eyes on the enemy that they would die, would be crippled and forced into the new age ruled by imperialist pigs determined to create a new era by crushing the old one.

Twenty, twenty 'useless' women had been put on the front line, the Joushitai, the Aizu Women's Troop. Marching in their armour, naginata's at their sides, they charged the lines of the imperialist army, cutting a path through the enemy, slaying anyone who got in their way. Then they saw the riflemen of Choshu, lined up with the firearms, picking off any soldier that came near. With an inhuman cry she led her women, her charges towards them, slashing as they went. Before her eyes she saw them fall, cut down, slain. Torn asunder by the relentless waves of bullets, arrows and death. Their trusted naginata's, the long sleek white oak staffs mounted with a deadly blade no match for the piercing chill of the metal bullets. A rage so impenetrable rose within her and she used her anger, immediately felling three opponents in one swipe. Hacking her way through lines of men. Killing without abandon until that arrow- cold and unforgiving, pierced her breast and with it her spirit.

And so, laying in her own blood she sent up a prayer for the survival for at least some of her kinsmen. She struggled once more to her feet, Breathing hard and vision blurring, she ran once more towards the people that had dared to take away her life of peace, the people who now, more then ever strived to tear more families apart. She would die before being captured, she would fight until she could fight no more, she would show them the strength of Nakano Takeko, last of the Joushitai and warrior of Aizu. Nearing her next victim she raised her niginata one last time only to be struck yet again by the pain of being punctured by an enemy arrow. She had broken her oath and now she would pay once again for the taking of human life.

Swords clashed and muffled explosions polluted the quiet night air. Arrows whizzed overhead landing with a dull 'thunk' in their targets. The death rattle of gunshots mowing down the rows of Aizu warriors echoed a strange rhythm, seemingly devoted to death itself. The sobs of men ravaged beyond recognition filtered across her consciousness and in the carnage of Wakamatsu Castle, Nakano Takeko, last female warrior of Aizu, took her last breath and…died.

Onna bugeisha was based on the real battle and fall of what is now known as Wakamatsu-jo castle, and the exploits of Nakano Takeko, leader of the Joushitai, in one of the last battle of Aizu.