A/N: Fair warning to the those of you curious readers who clicked on this story, wondering what it might be. This isn't your typical fanfiction, or even an elaborate piece of prose written with much gusto. This story was a brainchild of mine, written years ago on the premises of, "What if Rurouni Kenshin had a sequel? What would the story be about?" which eventually led to massive, obsessive research into Japanese history, world-building, character development, plot development, and a story that read like a cheesy action manga from the late 90's and early 2000's. All of it was conceptualized, but sadly most of it was never drafted into story format. After sorting through my old journals, and finding this cringe-worthy piece of work, I was feeling nostalgic and decided to clean up and post what parts of the story I did have finished, the first of which is posted below. Many new faces (original characters) and some familiar faces make appearances, but I hope you give them all a chance either way.
tl;dr: That being said, I hope you enjoy reading Watarimono Kensei as much as I had fun writing it!
Terms:
Watarimono – pilgrim, wanderer
Gasa – traditional woven straw hat.
Yugake – gloves, arm guards.
Gi – robe, similar to the kimono, but traditionally worn by men.
Hakama – pleated pants worn over the gi.
Daito – Japanese curved long sword.
Bokken – wooden sword, often used for patterns, to practice swinging, and condition the arms.
Kimono – traditional Japanese robe.
Gekkiken – "free fencing" refer to
Dango – sweet dumplings.
Dojo – gathering place, or training facility for the arts (in this case, martial arts).
Kenjutsu – Japanese swordsmanship.
Kenkaku – swordsman.
Shinai – bamboo practice sword
Oji – old man
-san – honorific, like "Mr." or "Ms."
Saya – sword sheathe
Gaijin – foreigner, usually refers to Caucasian westerners.
Sake – alcohol
Haori – mid-length, long-sleeved coat worn over normal clothes
Yakuza – Japanese mafia
Ri – unit of distance, approximately equal to 0.645 km
Ki – spirit energy, released with an energetic shout in martial arts to strengthen themselves (called Ki-ai)
Tsuki o utsu – "striking down the moon"
Hangetsu – half moon
Kensei – spirit, or will of the sword
Ch 1: A Watarimono Arrives in the City of Elegance
As the afternoon sun shone brilliantly down on the blooming city of Kyoto, a train pulled into Kyoto station at two past the noon hour, just as it always does once every week. And just like every week, men and women of all classes came filing out of the train cars, met halfway on the platform by friends, relatives and business partners. However, unlike every week, the usual scenery was broken by the appearance of a boy with the looks and size of a child and ragged clothing, who stepped off onto the platform. With his gasa pointed hat, fraying yugake training gloves, gi, hakama, square travel packs slung over one shoulder, and a daito wooden sword at his waist, he stood out from the majority of the crowd, looking more like a street urchin amongst a sea of smartly dressed civilians in western suits, frilly dresses, and flowery kimonos.
As the boy walked through the streets, he picked up bits of gossip from the people around him. Passing by a kiosk selling dango, his attuned ears zeroed in on a particular conversation amongst three other boys about the age of fifteen at the corner across the street from him. They were talking about kendo.
"The police have been more aggressive with the dojo's lately. I hear all the schools in Kanto have already surrendered their secret techniques," said one boy.
"No way! Master Maekawa would never give up the famous Chuuetsu Style that has dominated the Tokyo Gekkiken for the last decade!" another boy passionately replied. "Giving up his secrets would mean giving up his title!"
The first boy scoffed. "You idiot, times are different now. Mastering secret sword styles mean nothing now compared to amassing knowledge. I hear that's the real reason why the police have been collecting styles from all over the country."
His interest peaked, the ragged traveller left his spot in front of the dango shop and tried to wander closer, but was waylaid by a peddler sitting in the shade, offering to sell him a tourist map of the city. Nearby, the conversation carried on.
"And now that the war with China is over, there's an influx of swordsmen from the army returning to Japan... I have a few hot-headed relatives on their way back from Korea, and I know they won't be happy to hear their dojo's have been taken over by the government."
"Hey, Akira, your brother is a policeman, isn't he? Can't he tell you about what's going on?" The second boy asked and both boys turned to their third companion.
The third boy, who had been quiet throughout the conversation so far, responded coldly.
"What, you think my brother would tell me something like that? And by the way, you've got your facts wrong. The police are entering the final negotiations with the kenjutsu masters in officially recognizing kendo as a national martial art, but nothing major has happened yet. It's the yakuza that have been threatening the dojo's and targeting kenkaku lately, so if you ask me, you two would be the weakest link in our school." The boy named Akira shot an irritated glare at his two friends and continued marching down the street without a second glance back. "You better watch yourselves while walking around in public with those shinai on your backs. I won't be the one to clean your sorry corpses off the dojo's front steps when it happens."
The other two boys shrank back cautiously from Akira's ridicule, remembering how the topic of their friend's brother was a touchy subject. The second boy ran ahead of Akira and kept pace with his friend's hurried steps while attempting to pacify the other boy's suddenly sour mood.
"Hey, come on, Akira, don't be like that!" he spun around and shuffled backwards, trying to keep pace with his friend and talk at the same time. "You know that half the stuff that comes out of our mouths is useless chatter anyways, right Isao?" He aimed a nudging look at the other boy, Isao, who nodded his head in agreement.
"Right, right," Isao replied airily. "In other words, don't believe everything Isamu says, Akira."
"Hey!"
Isamu was about to snap at Isao, but was pointedly not paying attention to where he was going. He backed right into a taller man in his teens, who hadn't been paying attention either. The teen abruptly cut off his lively banter with his group of friends and glowered down at the shorter boy. The group of obnoxious teenagers had apparently been drawing disapproving looks from the crowd as they shoved each other roughly through the streets and swung their shinai precariously around, before one of them had inadvertently jumped into Isamu.
Isamu quickly backed off and waved his hands apologetically.
"S-Sorry about that. Are you all right?"
The boy anxiously squinted up at the teenager before him as the older boy's stare turned into a menacing leer. Then the teen seemed to notice the sheathed shinai strapped to each back of the three youth before him. The leer spread into a foul grin.
"Well, look at what we have here, boys? A couple of spoiled brats who think they're swordsmen, carrying around those shinai out in the open like that," the teen blurted loudly.
The other teens snickered in amusement. Sensing the sudden hostility in the air, Akira defensively widened his stance and eyed the four bullies warily.
"They probably only know one kind of swing, like how they teach it at all the knock-off dojo's these days – unlike our Yagyu-Shinkage style kenjutsu," he gloated.
One of his companions cackled. "Yeah, you mean like that Ono-ha what's-its-name style? They have so many students out there, if I walked up to a beggar on the street, he'd probably be an Ono-ha student too!"
The uncontrollable laughter of the teens bellowed above the crowded street, drawing wary glances from the bystanders. A patrol of policemen turned around the corner down the street in that moment, halted in their tracks and eyed the kenjutsu students suspiciously from across the busy square where people were slowly starting to crowd around the disturbance.
With a cool-headed wave of his hand, Akira stepped in front of Isamu to hold back his friend's retort.
"Let's get out of here guys. These fools aren't worth the trouble."
The teen whom Isamu had bumped into (who was apparently the leader among his group of delinquents) stuck out his shinai, effectively blocking the three boys' attempt to exit the situation.
"What's the hurry, pretty boy? You're friends look like they wanna stay and have some fun. We were just in the mood for a little sparring match too, weren't we?"
The harassers circled around their three victims like a pack of wolves. Isao and Isamu slowly shifted around to face their opponents until they were back to back with Akira, who warily drew his shinai as well. In the background, the policemen who had been guardedly watching the conflict unfold, finally seemed to recognize the signs that a fight was about to break out and started to make their way over through the crowded street.
Akira stood his ground as the bullies took an aggressive stance. Isao quickly whispered nervously to Akira.
"What do we do, Akira? We're not supposed to –"
"Just follow my lead. We attack first, I'll make an opening and we'll use that chance to escape."
The two sides glared at each other, waiting for the right moment to pounce. However, before either side could make a move, there was suddenly a third party in their midst.
The unusual boy with the gasa came casually strolling between the surrounding bystanders, strolling right in between Akira and the delinquent leader, apparently unaware of the situation he had just walked into. His nose stuck between the folds of a large sheet of paper, he mumbled obliviously to himself and scratched his head in confusion.
"Eeeh, that oji-san really tricked me. This map cost me two-hundred yen, so how am I going to pay for my lunch now?" he pondered out loud.
The lead bully smacked his shinai on the ground in irritation. "You're in the way, shorty! Move it!" Without warning, he took a sloppy swing at the strange boy with his shinai. Time seemed to move slowly as Akira made to reach out and push the boy out of the way.
The boy, however, simply hopped up on his toes, subtly absorbing then deflecting the impact with the crumpled map and angle of his hands, and landed lightly on his feet several steps back. Akira caught a glimpse of this subtle, skillful movement, but shook off the bewilderment, thinking it was a trick of the light.
The short boy finally looked up in surprise. Noticing the angry looks coming from both sides, the large bullies surrounding the three boys next to him, the boy's surprise transformed into a pleasant smile.
"Hey now, no need to be so pushy!" he admonished like a mother would to a bunch of rowdy children. "We're all upstanding young men here, so I'm sure we can work something out without having to swing our swords around like barbarians."
"What did you just call me, you little brat?" The bully snagged the front of the boy's jacket and his hat was knocked back, revealing short, messy hair, an unusual chestnut-brown in color. Clear, blue eyes gaze at them in surprise through the brown bangs on his forehead.
The group stop and stare for a moment. Annoyed, the bully shook him threateningly.
"What're you, a gaijin? You some kind of gaijin-Japanese mutt?"
The boy appeared to seriously consider that comment for a moment, then replied, "Hm, that's a good question. I often wonder that myself."
Not liking his smart tone, the bully whipped another fierce swing at him – only to end up hitting nothing but an empty gi and two square packages.
In that weightless instant before the crumpled packs fell to the ground, a sheathed sword suddenly thrust through the gi through the older boy's blind spot, striking him hard in the gut. The teen collapsed to the ground. Both delinquent lackeys and the three boys gaped like fish at what they had just witnessed – or actually, what they didn't witness. The whole exchange had happened so quickly, the bullies were left perplexed as to whether the boy had even made a move or not.
However, the two remaining bullies soon shook off their initial confusion and brandished their shinai at the brown-haired boy with his sheathed sword in hand. The boy took a stance of his own as if to draw the sword at his side and Akira moved subtly, preparing to jump into the fray –
A police whistle suddenly shrills through the streets, cutting through the tension like butter.
"Hold it right there, you punks!" A unit of policemen broke out of the mass of people in the square and came rushing over. Chaos fell on the streets as everyone rushed about, trying to make themselves scarce.
The bullies picked up their fallen leader in a panic and tripped over each other to make a hasty retreat. Amidst the chaos, the brown-haired boy spotted his jacket still gripped firmly in the unconscious bully's grasp as it trailed after them in the wind.
"H-Hey! They stole my gi!" He was about to run after the escaping party, when Akira grabbed his arm and dragged him along after his already retreating friends, the police hot on their heels.
/
Later on, the three students plus the now gi-less, brown-haired boy had made it safely back to their main residence. The strange boy had appraised the sign hanging from the entranceway in the evening's twilight as they had rushed through the gate, reading, "Tsugaru Dojo." Just as they closed the door, the echo of whistles and angry police officers passed by outside, fading away into the distance. At this late hour, the students were most likely finished training for the day and the dojo was tranquilly silent. The stillness over the property was broken only by footsteps in the main training hall where the four boys stopped to catch their breaths.
"That was way too close for comfort. For a moment, I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes back there," Isao griped dramatically.
Isamu wailed to the ceiling in response. "Please forgive us Master Tsugaru! We didn't mean to cause trouble with students of the Yagyu dojo! Or the police!"
Isao and Isamu both bowed their heads in shame, one falling prone on the floor in exhaustion, the other bobbing his head hysterically in front of the alcove where the head master's empty seat was enshrined. Akira trudged across the mats and smacked the both of them back to their senses, then started handing out orders.
"Stop groveling, you idiots! Isao, go make sure we weren't followed and lock up the front gates. Isamu, go tell Instructor Kamata what has happened."
The two boys looked at each other unsurely, until Akira gave an impatient, "NOW!" which startled both boys to their feet. They rushed off in opposite directions, leaving Akira with the brown-haired boy alone in the quiet of evening. When Akira turned around to address their unexpected guest, he found the boy wasn't in the spot on the floor where he had collapsed a moment ago.
"Hmmm, I've seen the Yamaga family's version of the Ono-ha Itto style, and the original Ono family's revived style as well. But really, it was the Tsugaru family that kept the traditional unarmored dueling style of the Ono-ha Itto alive throughout the generations. I've never seen Tsugaru style before, unfortunately."
The brunette boy wondered aloud, and Akira found him standing in front of a shinai storage rack on the other side of the training hall, gazing up at the row of black and white photographs displayed along the edge of the ceiling and walls. Akira ignored the boy's strange ramblings to himself and replied without missing a beat.
"That was a pretty stupid thing you did back there, kid, but I suppose I should thank you for your help on behalf of my friends and I. In return, I'm sure Instructor Kamata would be able to escort you home and apologize to your parents for the trouble we've caused –"
"Oh no, please don't trouble yourselves over me. You see, I'm actually not from around here. I just arrived in Kyoto today."
Akira stared at the scrawny kid, thoroughly unconvinced. His now jacket-less, bare upper body (except for his pair of arm-guards) revealed lean, wiry muscle on his slight, youthful frame, but his skinniness was a far cry from something to brag about. Thinking the kid must be disoriented still from when the delinquent teenager had struck him with his shinai, Akira's imagination filled in the gaps for the kid's self-confidence.
"So, I suppose that means you're an orphan? We could convince Instructor Kamata to let you stay the night then, if you like? There are several live-in students already staying here at the dojo, I'm sure they can accommodate another person for one night at least."
"Hm, that sounds very tempting, but –"
Their awkward conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the Assistant Master, who came barreling into the training hall with an ashamed Isamu in tow, dragged along by the collar. He glanced back and forth between Akira and the boy while catching his breath before bluntly inquiring:
"Where is Isao?"
"I told him to lock up, sir. He should be back soon."
And just as Akira spoke, Isao casually re-entered the training hall. Everyone watched patiently while he took his time slipping off his sandals, dusted off his hakama, and bowed respectfully before entering the dojo. He froze not two steps away, finally realizing who was present in the room at the moment, Instructor Kamata glaring sternly at him and the nervous look on Isamu's face.
"I need to have a word with you three." Kamata glances at the brunette boy in their midst. "But first, Akira will go retrieve a spare training gi for the boy. Then we'll talk."
The Instructor chewed out the three students for a good three hours that night and threatened to suspend them until the master returned from his trip. However, the brown-haired boy spoke up in their defence and, in the end, the three Ono-ha Itto students were punished with only two weeks' worth of cleaning chores for skipping afternoon class and causing trouble in the city while the boy with the bokken was allowed to stay the night.
/
Meanwhile, in another part of the city that night, a certain delinquent teenager was kneeling in a reception room with his head bowed before a massive figure hidden in the shadow of the candlelight. The shadows of several other mysterious characters behind the massive man flickered against the wall.
The teenager sputtered out in distress, "It wasn't my fault, father! Those damn brats caught us off guard. If they hadn't jumped us, and the police hadn't gotten in the way, I would've –"
A booming voice like gravel interrupted the boy's rambling.
"You would have what? Scared them off with your insufferable snoring? You expect me to believe that?"
The boy glued his mouth shut. The massive man tipped a splash of sake into his cup and took a sip. "Leave it to my idiotic son to catch unwanted attention from the police. Especially during this critical stage in the family's negotiations! What'll you do if those brats run crying to the police? What'll you do if the Gakushigumi suffers because of the dim-witted stunt you pulled? Eh? EH?!"
The man rose to his feet and viciously chucked his sake cup across the room where it shattered against the opposite wall. The teenager cringed back in fear. His father huffed and smoothed out the wrinkles in his haori, twin golden dragons shimmering along the inlaid silk.
"Looks like I'll have to clean up after my stupid son's mess before any word of this gets back to the higher-ups. Be thankful you have such a powerful man for a father, you damn ingrate."
The man stalked out of the room, the malicious silhouettes trailing behind him.
/
The next day, training started bright and early in the Tsugaru dojo. The energetic shouts of the students reverberated across the grounds as they practiced through their routine drills in tandem. While the rest of the students were outside for morning exercises, Akira, Isao, Isamu, and the brown-haired boy were left alone, cleaning the practice equipment and the wooden floorboards of the main training hall. Around lunchtime, they took a brief rest from cleaning to eat with the rest of the students, but went straight back to scraping and scrubbing after filling their stomachs. Currently, Isao and Akira were cleaning the body armors while Isamu and the boy scurried back and forth along the floor, polishing the well-worn surface of the dark wood. As they padded across the floor side by side, Isamu stuck up conversation with the boy.
"Soooo… you say you're not from around here? Did you come to Kyoto with your parents?"
The boy obligingly replied, "I came on my own by train from Hyogo. And before that, I had to travel by foot from Osaka to Hyogo station."
"Wow, and you're parents let you do that on your own at your age? So, what brings you to Kyoto then?"
"I'm currently on a pilgrimage, partly to study the sword and partly for self-reflection. Let's see… it's been about..." The boy paused to count in his head. "Five years now since I've left home? I have also been studying bushido, and cultivating my spiritual needs along the way."
"Um... Cool. That sounds... pretty interesting, I guess. You must've been four years old though, or something, when you started this pilgrimage of yours, right?"
Akira loudly cut into their idle chitchat.
"Hey, less talking, more cleaning. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can catch up with practice today. And kid..."
"Yes?"
"... Remind me again why you're helping us with chores? Or, scratch that – why are you even still here in the first place?"
The boy in question scratched his chin in thought. "Well, Isamu said he'd draw me a map of Kyoto with all the major dojos and shrines in the area. In return, I promised to stay and help out with the chores, just for today."
Akira glared at Isamu, knowing how impossible it was to know every single one of the nearly one thousand shrines there are in Kyoto. Isamu grinned guiltily and shrugged.
"I wouldn't take Isamu's word for that if I were you. This guy couldn't find a durian fruit if you held it right under his nose, not to mention a potentially threatening bully in his path swinging a shinai right in front of him."
Isao fell back on his haunches, laughing hysterically, while Isamu replied indignantly.
"Hey! Isn't that exaggerating a bit too much? I may not be the best navigator out there, but at least I know my own city. And anyone else could have walked into those idiots the way they were jumping and swinging all over the place."
The boy only smiled supportively and cheerfully replied "Don't worry, Akira! If Isamu says he can do it, I trust him. And we're both getting something out of this, so it's no big deal."
Isao let his laughter die out and both he and Akira shoot Isamu a simultaneous glare. He could practically hear their voices in his head, shame on you for taking advantage of an innocent little kid.
Just then, the Assistant Instructor called from outside.
"Once you three are finished in there, I need one of you to go fetch the doctor. After that, you're free to catch up on your training until your evening duties."
Isamu groaned. "Oh man, I hate that cranky old man. He chewed my ear out that last time I twisted my ankle."
Akira rolled his eyes at him.
"Maybe that's because you were – hm, I don't know – faking it?"
Isao was huffing with laughter again at Isamu's expense, but managed to spit out, "Well, he may be good at his work, but I for one just can't stand the way he prattles on, and on, and on..."
Akira sighed heavily. "You two are impossible. If it's so unbearable to go fetch an old man who lives only two ri away from here, I guess I'll have to go –"
The two plead gratefully to their good friend and comrade with wide, imploring eyes.
"– while you two clean the sweat and mold off from these old helmets here." And Akira pushed forward a pile of foul-looking gear with a sour smell wafting up through the air. The two boys blanched at the sight and the overpowering odor.
Before Isao and Isamu could start their complaints, the brown-haired boy piped up.
"Why don't I go call the doctor? I've never met him before, so maybe he won't get on my nerves as much as you two? Just tell me the way and I'll get going."
Akira shook his head incredulously. "Kid, you are much too gullible and nice for your own good. The doctor lives by a bamboo grove east of here, but you'll never be able to find it unless –"
"Two ri, east, bamboo grove. Got it." The boy was already slipping on his sandals and out the entrance doors before Akira could say anything else.
Isamu raised an eyebrow at Akira and smartly remarked, "Look who's taking advantage of the little kid now," which earned him a smack to head from Akira before a moldy helmet was shoved onto Isamu's head.
/
"You know, back in my day the kids would bow to every person who walked into the dojo. But nowadays, the kids do nothing but chatter away and think everything is fun and games. They're even too lazy to tie their own uniforms properly! And you know what that shows? A lack of respect! A lack of discipline! Absolutely none! Why, back in the day, you'd get a good beating for showing up half a second late to class –"
The brunette boy just smiled and nodded along fervently as the old doctor rambled on about the "good old days." Having successfully followed the vague directions to the doctor's humble clinic, he was currently standing in the foyer, patiently holding the doctor's things as the old man slowly gathered up some other materials in an adjacent room. The boy was trying very hard not to let his mind wander through the elderly man's tireless drone, when he was startled by a loud banging on the door. A gruff voice yelled out from the other side.
"Hey! Anyone in there? It's the police, we'd like to speak to the owner of this house." The sounds of dogs barking could be heard beyond the door.
The old man shuffled past the boy, muttering grumpily to himself.
"All right already, hold your horses, I'm coming. Humph, even visitors these days have no respect for their elders, dropping in unannounced like this..."
The boy, however, quickly stepped after the old man.
"Hold on, oji-san, I don't think you should –" There was a sudden spike of ki in the air and a spark of recognition flashed across the boy's eyes. In an instant, he dove to push the old doctor out of the way just as the sliding door exploded inwards and several giant beasts came charging into the house.
The boy rolled to his feet to face the sudden threat. His eyes zeroed in on famished, frothing mouths and the chains around the snarling dogs' mangy necks, following the leads towards the massive, tattooed hands of a giant man as he hunkered through the demolished entrance. The giant glowered down at the old man rumpled on the floor and the scrawny boy beside him.
The man chortled in amusement.
"Hah! The dogs' must be losing their sense of smell if a decrepit old man and a child are supposed to be the ones who beat up the boss' son."
The boy's attention caught the familiar piece of gi clutched in the man's grip. Curious. What was a piece of his jacket doing in the hands of a yakuza?
"Huh, this is a waste of time," the giant hitman griped. "I should hurry and catch up with the boss, but I think I can spare a second or two to let the dogs have their breakfast first." He grins maliciously and rattled the chains, inciting the dogs to growl with impatience. "I, Okamura the Beast Tamer will let you have the honor of being my pets' first meal of the day!" The chains click noisily together, pulled taut as the giant mastiffs attempted to lunge forward.
Unfazed by the rabid dogs drooling in his face, the boy stood up straight and took an offensive stance, preparing to draw his bokken.
His voice was steady as he stared piercingly at the man and the snarling dogs.
"It's already past the noon hour so it's too late for breakfast, unfortunately," the boy stated calmly. "But since you're in such a hurry, Okamura-san, let's finish this quickly. It would be a shame for the dogs to miss dinner as well..." There was a flash of sharp steel in the boy's eyes as his thumb flicked the sword free from its sheathe and he took in a deep breath…
/
Isao and Isamu were deep in discussion about the mysterious brown-haired boy as they finished their make-up practice out in the courtyard. Studiously swinging a bokken next to them, Akira tried to concentrate on his striking motions, but couldn't help but follow their conversation.
"Don't you think he talks really strange for his age? I mean, we're probably not that much older than him, but I'm pretty sure kids that age aren't so good-natured and selfless. My little brother is a total brat."
"Hm, that's a good point." Isao pauses in his swinging and scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well, looking at his shabby clothes, he must be an orphan, right? Maybe the reason he became one is because he's... you know..." He twirled his finger around the side of his head and crossed his eyes.
Akira's bokuto came swinging in, whacking both boys hard in the gut.
"That's a horrible thing to say about the kid who helped intervene in our fight yesterday. And don't forget, it was him who stood up for us when Assistant Master Kamata was going to suspend us from training for a month as due punishment."
Isamu rubbed his stomach, but apparently didn't know when to keep his mouth shut.
"But, what if he is?" he pushed.
"Is what?"
"You know..."
Akira opened his mouth to retort something back and raised a threatening fist in annoyance – to which Isamu cringed and threw his arms up defensively – but, he couldn't find the right words to say. He had to admit to himself that the boy really was a little strange not only in looks, but behavior as well. No matter what kind of pretty words Akira used, they would only sound like an excuse to cover up the brunette boy's odd personality. Truthfully, Akira felt a bit vexed at being one-upped by a child when it came to averting the street fight and pacifying the assistant instructor's anger. Being saved by others, by a someone younger especially, always didn't settle well with Akira. But deep down, he could feel that there was more to the boy than outside appearances, a sharp glint of intelligence in his blue eyes disguised by his innocence and charming politeness...
The sound of barking dogs and screaming students suddenly ripped through the air, startling the three friends. Akira, Isao, and Isamu looked at each other in alarm. Wordlessly, they came to a unanimous decision and together, rushed back towards the main training hall.
As they came barreling into the training hall, they could only gape in horror at the scene unfolding before them.
The hall was in complete and utter chaos, students scattered every which way to escape giant-sized mastiffs lunging at them and blood splattering across the floor as legs and arms were caught by the dogs' huge claws and teeth. They recognized Assistant Master Kamata and a few older students in full armour madly swinging their shinai, trying to save the other students and keep the vicious beasts at bay.
His instincts kicking into gear, Akira fearlessly jumped into the fray, saving a student closest to him from getting his face savagely bitten off. He delivered a powerful swing and two quick stabs of his bokken into the dog's eyes, stunning it, then quickly dragged the student to safety.
Following Akira's lead, Isao and Isamu jumped in as well, backing up one of the older students who was being cornered by two aggravated mastiffs.
Despite the bolstering of their defence that came from the three boys' arrival, the size and ferocity of the mastiffs were quickly overpowering them, forcing them to slowly retreat to the back of the hall. As the students start to gather together in a protective circle and the starving dogs stalked closer with every step, Kamata called out to his pupils.
"Defensive formation! We'll cover the injured and younger students' escape to the back gate and barricade ourselves in the residence quarters!"
Just then, a loud whistle shrieked through the air and the dogs froze. A booming voice guffawed amidst the sudden pause in the action.
"Gahaha! That damn Okamura! These Tibetan mastiffs are the most bloodthirsty beasts I've ever seen in my life! I should remind myself to give him a raise when we get back."
A burly man in finely-made clothes, composed of a silk gi, hakama, and dragon-patterned haori overcoat, strode arrogantly into the disparaged dojo followed by several tattooed lackeys. Still chortling to himself, he sneered at the haggard residents of the Tsugaru dojo.
"So, where are they? The arrogant brats who mussed up my son the other day? Hand them over quietly and I'll think about sparing this dojo's precious students."
Kamata glared furiously at the intruders, risking a subtle glance over his shoulder at Akira, Isao, and Isamu with similar defiant looks on their faces.
"There is no one here who would rashly attack an unarmed civilian – that is not the teachings of this dojo. I am sorry to hear of your son's misfortune, but I must ask you to leave at once, or else –"
The man cut him off with another full-bellied laugh.
"Or else what? You'll attack us with those flimsy sticks of yours? If you haven't noticed, you're in no position to be making threats, little man. And don't try to bargain your way out of this either. A dog's nose never lies." He brandished a piece of cloth at them, which Akira recognized as part of the brown-haired boy's gi.
The self-important man pulled out a pocket watch from his sleeve. "You know what, I change my mind. I have better things to do than chase after a couple of smart-assed kids." He turned his back to them as if to leave and lifts his hand to signal his lackeys. "Kill them all."
One lackey with a dog whistle stepped forward and was about to blow when –
"Wait!" Kamata stepped forward, lowering his shinai. "You want to know who beat up your son? It was me. I did it."
Akira and the other students jumped up in horror.
"NO! Instructor, you can't do this! It was our fault –"
Isao and Isamu pulled Akira back, the boy having nearly stepped too close to one of the snarling dogs.
"Instructor Kamata –!" Akira cried out.
Kamata silenced his students with an authoritative shout of, "Be Quiet!" And he stood resolutely before the squirming beasts and the yakuza.
The burly yakuza leader took one look at the man before him and burst into hysterics, bent over his gut and wiped an inexistent tear from his eye with the piece of gi he held in his grasp.
"Gahaha! Look at this upstanding young man! Ha! Willing to sacrifice himself for his students? The selflessness is so obvious it's sickening!"
He continued to chortle heartily to himself, and his followers laughed along with him, but when the Tsugaru students continued to glare stonily at him, his face turned serious.
"All right, if you're so determined to take the blame, you can take the punishment for their crimes against one of our own."
He snaps his fingers and a lackey comes forward with a corked bottle. He uncorks it and chucked it at Kamata, who swung his shinai and skillfully shatters the bottle before it could even make a scratch on him, however, a red liquid bursts out and splattered him from head to foot.
The dogs suddenly stop snarling and sniffed the air eagerly with a hungry look in their eyes.
A nasty smirk stretched across the yakuza leader's face.
"That's chicken blood. Our mutts aren't particularly picky when it comes to fresh meat..." The dogs quickly circle around Kamata, tongues lolling hungrily from their mouths. "... But they simply love fresh chicken the most! Gahaha!"
The first dog lunged at Kamata from behind. He spun around and defended against its massive jowls by thrusting his shinai down its wide open mouth and choking it. The colossal dog's weight, however, was too much for him and forced him backwards into the jaws of another one. The second mastiff's jaws bit deeply into his shoulder and he cried out in surprise and pain as the weight of the dog brought him down to his knees. Seeing their chance, the beasts pounced on their struggling prey.
"NOOOO!"
Akira tore himself out of Isao and Isamu's grips, they and the other students too shocked and paralyzed with fear to move. He charged forward and elbowed one dog in the snout about to leap in as well, then proceeded to swing his bokuto heavily on the mass of dogs, purposely aiming for their eyes. Momentarily dissuaded by Akira's fierce attack, the dogs backed off slightly, growling in annoyance.
Akira took up a defensive position over Kamata's bloodied body.
As the dogs made another approach, Akira swung once more. One dog swiped at his leg with its claws, drawing blood, and another caught the bokuto in its jaws. Akira's eyes widened in shock as his only means of defense was splintered in two by one vicious shake of the dog's head.
Time seemed to move sluggishly as the beasts leaped in on the now defenseless swordsmen and Isao and Isamu screamed, "AKIRA LOOK OUT!"
"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
An powerful ki-ai reverberated through the hall and every living, breathing body in the room was stunned by the drop in the atmosphere. The yakuza underlings still lingering outside seemed to notice something behind them and swivelled around to charge at the approaching threat. Several loud smacks were rung through the air and one by one, the entourage of yakuza collapsed to ground, some with their faces and ears bludgeoned, some with blood leaking from their mouths and noses despite no sign of any other external wounds.
Dumbfounded by the sight, the yakuza leader took an unconscious step back.
In the midst of the beaten yakuza subordinates stood the brown-haired boy, the white saya tucked into his belt while he held up his drawn bokken with both hands. The wood of the sword was black, smooth and grainless, like ceramic.
The burly yakuza pointed an accusing finger at the boy.
"YOU! What do you think you're doing? What happened to my men?!"
Infuriated, the man's face turned a ferocious red.
The boy confronted the burly man's anger with a calm voice.
"No need to worry. They are all still alive, I simply knocked them unconscious since they were in the way. Like your other underling." He stepped aside slightly, allowing a view of the front yard where the old doctor stood next to several crestfallen mastiffs, heads bowed in submission and harnessed to a pull-cart, which hefted the unconscious, giant man with no visible injuries except a mysterious, prominent bruise across his throat. The stout yakuza leader gaped in disbelief and the boy continued.
"This is my only warning to you; take your pets and subordinates and leave. Never bother this dojo and their students again."
The students in question were currently staring in awe and at the strange boy as if he were a completely different person from the ragged, mild-mannered orphan they had offered food and shelter the day before. It was then that a sudden realization dawned on Akira and he whispered to himself.
"Kid, you're really..."
A dangerous shadow crossed over the brawny man's face and he glared in irritation at the confident boy in front of him.
"Ah, you're really getting on my nerves now, you insolent brat. If you really want me to believe you did in Okamura and his mastiffs single-handedly, then I suppose I should believe this belongs to you?" He held out the remaining piece of the boy's gi.
The brown-haired boy's face lit up. "Oh, there it is! Yes, that's definitely mine. I suppose that makes you the insufferable father who raised his bastard son to be a hot-headed idiot?" his brash comment contrasted with the sweet smile on his face.
And with that, the boy apparently crossed the line. Growling angrily, the man dug into his sleeves and pulled out a whistle and another corked bottle. He lobbed the bottle at the boy and blew on the whistle with all his might.
At that moment in time, two things happened at once.
First, that particular whistle pitched so loudly that the screech could barely be heard, but the dogs responded and lope away from Akira and the other students, bounding towards the two opposing figures and reaching them in less than three leaps.
Second, the boy suddenly lowered his sword and allowed the bottle of chicken blood to shatter against his forehead without the slightest flinch. The mastiffs caught wind of the fresh blood immediately and growled crazily with hunger as they lunged at him.
The boy breathed in deeply and –
"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The giant mastiffs falter in fear at the sudden release of ki, thundering through the air like an earthquake. In that moment of hesitation, the boy moved swift as lightning, weaving through the pack of dogs and skillfully swinging his bokken, aiming a hard swing at the base of the skull of every dog he passes. One by one the dogs collapsed from the shock to their spines, whimpering pitifully on the ground.
Beyond angry now, the fuming yakuza leader pulled out his katana and charged at the boy.
"YOU DAMN BRAAAAAT!"
Time again seemed to move in slow motion as the boy lowered his body slightly, but Akira realized that the stance he took was significantly different.
Tsuki o utsu-ryu.
The brunette boy held the hilt up to his chin with the edge of the blade face up and horizontal to the ground. As the man's sword came swinging down, the boy suddenly leaned forward at an angle, whipping the tip of his blade up in an elegant arc and clubbing the man's wrist, knocking his swing off target. The man cried out in surprise and unwittingly dropped his katana. At the end of the arcing motion, the boy swiftly spun on his front foot, leaped forward and thrust the point of his sword straight at the man's throat, crushing his windpipe.
Hangetsu.
And the yakuza boss collapsed to the floor with the rest of his men.
/
That evening, police officers swarmed the grounds of the Tsugaru dojo. Here and there, some of the older students could be seen conversing with the investigators while others could be found cleaning up the blood and debris from the aftermath of the conflict. The doctor's medical assistants had been called out and were kept busy running back and forth from the residence quarters where all the injured were gathered into a temporary clinic of sorts. Everyone was thankful and relieved to hear that there had been no casualties, but, as the grumpy old doctor had put it, "With the number of wounds that need stitches, at this rate I'll be stitching until New Years' eve." At the front entrance, policemen were cleaning up the scene, dragging the unconscious bodies of the yakuza away, but were surprisingly having a much easier time with the massive dogs, who seemed to be relatively submissive now that they had been fed and promptly chastised by a proper dog trainer after the incident.
With his leg tightly bandaged, Akira wandered through the grounds with a folded-up cloth in his arms, particularly searching for the brunette boy. He found the familiar short figure, brown-haired head covered in bandages, hiding cuts from the broken bottle. A group of the mastiffs sat at attention before him, all nearly the same height as him.
The boy affectionately pet the one nearest to him and reprimanded them one last time.
"You guys be good now. You don't have to listen to those terrible yakuza anymore, but that doesn't mean you can go taking a bite out of anyone you please now, got it? Captain Mishima is a good man, he'll get you to Tibet somehow, I'm sure of it." He smiled good-naturedly and the dog gave him a slobbery lick before the group of them were herded away by an officer.
Akira took this chance to approach and quirk an eyebrow at him.
"You do realize that not all Tibetan mastiffs come from Tibet?"
The boy laughed pleasantly at his remark.
"That's true. But, I'm sure they'd be much happier herding livestock out in the open fields there, than starving in metal cages here."
Akira's serious gaze softened a little as he stared at the strange brown-haired, blue-eyed boy who barely stood up past his nose. Then he suddenly remembered the question he had been saving in the back of his mind.
"Hey. How old did you say you were?"
"Fourteen. I'm turning fifteen in a couple of months."
Akira gaped. "But – I– wait. Fourteen? But, you're –?"
The boy chuckles and waves away his confusion.
"Sorry for surprising you, but don't worry about it. You're not the only one who has made that mistake. I know I'm a little on the scrawny side. I'm sort of used to it by now."
Still in shock, Akira bows his head.
"I – guess that explains a lot... sorry for assuming."
"No offense taken," he said. The boy smiles and brushes the topic aside. "Well, I suppose I should be on my way now. I sincerely apologize for the trouble I've caused with the yakuza. Please let Assistant Master Kamata know when he wakes up. I'll make sure to leave an obvious trail so that any more yakuza tracking me will know that I'm not associated with this dojo any longer." He backed up and gave a deep bow in one smooth motion.
"Thank you for everything, Akira-san."
As he turned around to leave, Akira felt something twitch inside his chest. Watching the not-so-young boy's departing figure, he couldn't quite describe the emotion he was feeling, not knowing what it was. But, there was one thing he understood – he realized that he had to call him back. So he did.
He cupped his hands together and called out, "How do you think you're going to survive without any supplies? If I recall, you lost yours yesterday while we were running in the streets."
The retreating called back, "I'll manage somehow. I've been flat broke before during my pilgrimage."
"And the training gi we lent you?"
"I'll find a new one as soon as possible and send this one back to you by postage, you have my word."
"Oh really? Then I guess you don't need this old thing anymore..." Akira opened up the cloth in his arms and yanked it out, revealing the boy's own short-sleeved gi, bleached clean and sewn back together neatly.
The sudden appearance of his lost-and-found gi drew the boy's full attention.
"Wow, Akira-san! Thank you so much! I thought I'd lost that thing for good –" He quickly backtracked to the other boy's side and reached out to take the jacket, only for Akira to yank it back, just out of his reach.
"You know, I could tell this gi seemed important to you, so I went through a lot of trouble to find these pieces under the yakuza's smelly bodies –"
The boy bobbed his head apologetically.
"– and I spent a lot of time washing the stench out of it too –"
The boy was visibly sweating a little now.
"– and I skipped dinner just now to finish sewing it back together –"
Unable to hold back, the boy blurted, "I'm really sorry you had to go through all that trouble for me, Akira-san, but why –?"
"What I'm saying is, we're even now. So, why don't we start over... as friends?"
He presented the gi and placed it in the boy's hands. "And as friends, it's ok for me to ask you to stay, right?"
The boy was quiet for a moment, staring at the patched cloth in his hands still damp from the wash. Slowly, a genuine smile smoothed over his face and his clear eyes lit up softly. He looked up at Akira and nodded his head in agreement.
"I did say I haven't had the chance to see Tsugaru Ono-ha Itto style before, didn't I?"
They both smiled at each other in companionable silence for a moment, before Akira stepped back slightly and bowed.
"Shinoda Akira, fifteen. Nice to meet you."
The brown-haired boy did the same.
"Himura Kensei, fourteen. Nice to meet you too, Akira-san."
"Just call me Akira and I'll call you Kensei, no need for formalities. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
"Well Kensei, I'm sure if we hurry we can still catch some dinner before they clean up."
"Dinner sounds like a good idea."
As the two boys head back across the grounds, Kensei examined his repaired gi. "By the way, Akira, this is some really nice needlework you've done. Where did you learn to make such fine stitches?"
"My mother taught me. She always told me a woman's stitches must be as refined as the lady who stitches them. It shows their sincerity."
"Ah, I see." Kensei took several more steps before the entirety of that sentence caught up with him.
"Hold on. Akira... are… you... um–?"
"Yes, I am a girl, if you were wondering."
"..."
"It's not a secret either, I just have a habit of referring to myself as a boy. And everyone in the dojo already knows, so it's not a big deal."
"..."
"Sorry for surprising you, but don't worry about it. You're not the only one." Akira quoted Kensei's earlier remark with a smile and continued walking towards the dining hall.
Kensei self-consciously reddened in the face and could only gape wide-eyed after him – her.
