Disclaimer: I do not own the game or anime.
A/N: -It's been a while since I have written anything. So, I am still trying to get back to the flow of things.
-The idea came from watching Zatoichi meets the One-armed swordsman, I noticed that the characters were from completely different time periods (haha) and watching the Hakuouki anime. It's something I have been thinking about for a while.
Edited: 1/06/18
"He cannot continue the conflict, but gives way and
submits to fate; changing his disposition, he finds peace
in perseverance."
- I ching
A breath of time
Rows of flickering flames hidden inside rows of lanterns swinging lightly as it hanged along the many shops. Smoothing out a sheet of paper, laying it flat over a wrapped box, with only the name and the establishment written on there, before placing it all back into the satchel. Walking among the crowded streets was a youth, a stranger; a nobody gazed at the sullen colors of the sunset between the silhouettes of the many shops on the horizon. The name of the establishment had appeared finally. An inn.
The youth quicken the pace, as the youth walked closer, a crowd had gathered, what had been a mixture of smoked meat and sake in the air from the many buildings along the way was filled with a familiar heavy scent of fresh blood.
Instead of staring along with the onlookers, only taking a quick glance, the youth hastily turned away in disgust. Probably a fight over the demands of respect and pride, fools killing each other, it does not mean anything when you are dead or what witnesses think. You are either a corpse or a murderer.
And the youth remembered:
Standing on the arena without railings, one slip could be fatal. The feeling of the stale air, the sun's rays overhead. The loud cheers from the sea of people excited to see who would win. A yell ending in a wet gurgle as the slip of a blade drive itself deep through flesh, the crack as it struck bone, going down, and opening a crimson river. As soon as the body fell dead, there was silence that soon turned into jeers and sneers.
The youth snorted. Wishing not to have been reminded of those kinds of brawls. Tch, you give it your all and survive or just be killed.
The youth waded through a blob of bodies watching from the door and soon made way into the inn. The innkeeper was behind a desk speaking to a customer.
"The Roshigumi are at it again," the customer said in a hushed voice. "It's one thing causing a ruckus back in Kyoto, but to do that in Osaka…."
"To think they could just go around and cause problems here…," the innkeeper replied, his head shaking side to side. "Just a pack of bloodthirsty savages."
"Agreed, Kyoto was not enough for them, they had to do that in Osaka."
The youth shifted through the satchel taking out the box, holding it up from behind the customer for the innkeeper to see. The innkeepers eyes shifted upwards and the corners of his mouth turned up into a please smile.
"Ah, is it the mulberry twigs, erythrina bark, and the star jasmine vines?"
The youth did not respond only placing the open box in front of the innkeeper and taking the payment for the delivery. A small frown appeared on the innkeeper's brow. "Well, I am glad it is finally here, my knees, hands, and back are not what it used to be."
The youth only nodded as a response to a satisfied customer. He sighed when the youth still did not speak. He was a little annoyed at the way the youth kept nodding in response to what he said- but he tried to be patient. "Will you need a room?" he asked. "Obviously, you have traveled a long way and it is already very dark out, besides someone such as yourself might want to steer clear of those savages out there…."
The youth nodded once more, placing money taken from the youth's satchel, and moved further into the inn. "Make sure to ground the herbs thoroughly before soaking and boiling it. Remember not to soak in the bath with it for too long and rinse the body with clean water," the youth said suddenly, as if continuing the conversation before the innkeeper drifted off to another topic.
The next morning came by as a blur, passing through the crowded marketplace, seeing different and unique items; the youth had not felt such feelings of innocent glee since traveling through the southern and northern providences several years before while being in the company of family. At the time, the youth tried different types of foods and hearing the different accents from other regions. There were many kinds of goods the merchants had to offer such as different kinds of things from spices, porcelain to ginseng. The youth would have bought some then if the youth had enough money. The sight of the exquisitely smooth, soft texture of the fabric, reminded the youth of what some people wore back home. While the youth reminiscent the missing memories at the same time a childish voice cut through the marketplace.
"Get out of Osaka!"
The youth turned to see a crowd gather. The youth managed to see through the crowd to see it was the same group of men from before. "You're a nuisance!" shouted a boy who appeared at most thirteen or fourteen. The youth could not see the boy's face, but could feel the defiance as the boy faced the imposing man, who most likely was the leader. Next to the man was another who seemed to be too….kind or his head was filled with air to be associated with such a group, though there seemed to be others who did not seem fit in it as well. The strange man was trying to convince the leader to let it go and excuse the boy because it was only just youthful inexperience.
Stupid kid, don't just keep egging him on. Just run while you still can! Is anyone going to step in as well to stop this or is that kid just going to get himself killed? The youth thought angrily. The last thing the youth wanted to do was to get involved over another's affairs, it only lead to more problems. It would have been easier to just keep walking and not bother, but it was something the youth could not easily ignore. It could be that seeing the strong that prey on the weak that really drove the youth up the wall. On the other hand, that the kid was not too far from the age the youth was at when things went completely wrong at the time.
"You're nothing but savages!" the boy continued on with almost no fear of the chances of being simply cut down where he stood. The man raised his eyebrows in amusement. Did that boy actually say that, he almost thought he had heard wrong, and then he started to laugh involuntarily. There stood a lowly peasant, a boy who has yet grown to be a man, and desperate to die getting bold with samurai of his status, with the Roshigumi. People stepped aside as they go, it command fear and respect. Moreover, the boy did not show the smallest sign of that. That would not be tolerated, no matter how ridiculous it was.
"You may not be a samurai," the man said as he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. "But you may die as one."
The man took a few slow steps towards the boy and looked down on him as he began to unsheathe his sword. Then out of the corner of his eye something flew towards him, sliding the sword out of its scabbard, the man swung upwards only to have the thing swing the other way and coming in to a straight line into his gut. Going back a few steps and feeling the slight air knocked out of him, it dawn on him as he began to realize a light pain had spread. It was nothing that he could not handle, but it did take him by surprise. His eyes were alert looking around to find who had managed to strike him. He noticed the boy was farther back and in front of him was a stranger….a foreigner? The stranger stood with a walking stick firmly beside him, his face held nothing but disgust as he looked down at him through cold eyes.
The youth was no stranger to violence…each hand slid into position of the walking stick, holding it into a staff. Brown eyes were visible through the locks of hair that draped and flowed across the lower half of the youth's face while the rest of it was tied into a bun. A shabby, frayed scarf looped loosely around the neck, above an equally frayed robe that went down towards the cloth-covered calves, and ended with the dark covered footwear. The only thing that did not seemed to be worn was the sword that was attached to the youth's left hip.
The kinder looking man tried to intervene. "He's just a foreigner; he does not know who you are or who we are for that matter," he said in an even tone.
The man held out his sword once more, standing up fully, towering over the youth. "A stick in a sword fight, huh?" the man said, his tone mocking, but he held a cold sneer in his eyes. "To think I was struck by some foreign brat."
As soon as the words were spoken, he swung hard and fast towards the youth, he hacked at the youth relentlessly, but the youth just barely parried his every move. The youth quickly parried to make room to counter back, swinging it towards the man's throat, a move that could either be a move to incapacitate or to kill. But with perfect precision the man swung down, slicing the stick in half. The surprise of it made youth pause for a short moment, before the youth leaped nimbly back to get out of the way. Then man saw arms moving and two sticks flew through the air. The man ducks the first one and it missed his head by barely an inch. The second one came and he knocked it down.
Fingers brushed against metal; the youth pulled the sword from its scabbard and held it out in front ready to continue to face the dangers. As both warriors were ready to clash swords, a calm, quiet voice spoke from behind the man. "Serizawa-san, if he is a foreigner, then it should be up to the Osaka magistrate to decide," said a young man dressed in a simple black robe. "We are not to engage in personal duels."
The man called Serizawa let out a laugh that rippled outward, starting as a low grumbled before it exploded aloud as he sheathed his sword. "No need to wait for those fools," he said. "Just bring the foreigner back to Kyoto and just make an example of him."
The youth's eyes widen slightly, gripping the hilt of the sword tightly, ready to fight for an escape. The youth faced the man who had just spoken against engaging in a duel. The man walked towards the youth and nodded slightly. "Saito Hajime," he said, waiting for the youth to respond with a name. When the youth did not respond immediately, the man that called himself Saito Hajime continue to speak. "My apologies, but I will use force if necessary."
The youth stepped into a ready stance as a response to the apology as Saito slid his own blade out of its scabbard and settled in to a ready stance. Left handed? The youth remarked silently. Will I be able to keep up? I am not the most proficient with the reverse. The youth slowly changed hands slightly.
Saito thrusted his own weapon straight to cut through the youth's skull. The next swing came from the right side toward the youth's throat. Holding the sword vertically, the youth defended the neck by slicing down hard, causing Saito to lose balance slightly and spin to the right to keep from falling.
The youth cursed the moments of the decision to defend that silly boy from that man called Serizawa. Once again, the youth swung the weapon overhead only to meet Saito's sword head on with a loud metallic scream. Each time the sword clanged upon the youth's weapon, the youth could feel the vibrations. The pain shooting from wrist to elbow. Raising the sword overhead, ready to swing down, Saito suddenly ducked out of the youth's sight. The youth saw it coming, but it caught the youth off guard. Watching it come towards the middle of the youth's body, expecting the sword to drive itself deep into the stomach, and watching blood explode everywhere. Instead, it felt as if a balled fist had made contact instead. Feeling the entrails being smashed, the blood burst under the collapse of the diaphragm. The youth's breath instantly left, forcing the youth to double over on to bent knees. Seeing briefly that Saito had used the hilt of his sword to drive into the youth's stomach. The youth could taste the bile and a hint of blood threatening to spill out. As the youth's crumpled body hit the ground, the youth could hear someone issue an order "Nagakura-kun, carry that foreign brat back to headquarters..." before the youth's vision began to fade into darkness.
A/N: Thanks for reading!
-Hopefully, it was not too difficult to read. My beta is MIA at the moment.
-I wanted to try a different writing view. I'll keep trying to do better. Only a few months of not writing and it just felt so difficult to write things correctly!
-Anyways, I am thinking of writing this as a two or three part series. I sort of have an outline for it.
-Also, the title is from an idiom. Its meaning is a poetic way of referring to a very short time span. Such as how long it takes a person breathe in and out, about 1-3 seconds. I used it as how a short time it takes to make a choice can impact someone's outcome.
