The cool crisp wind of autumn brushes against my dark slate coat while my paws scuff along the dirt road. I listen to the rustle of the branches in the trees, the twittering of anxious birds preparing for the cold winter to come. Somewhere in the distance I can smell upturned earth of a farmer harvesting his land's crops, but I've no time to stop and bask in this seemingly peaceful moment. I have someplace to get to.

My name is Hajime Saito. I'm the last of my lupine kind. Er, well, let me be a little more specific. I'm a different kind of wolf. My bloodline traces back to the days of Amaterasu when she sent her son to this place, carrying three rare treasures: a glaive, a mirror, and rosaries. My people, the Tsukiishibara, have long protected those treasures, never to make use of them for selfish gain, for power or greed. No, my people are difficult to be persuaded to said sins.

My home village used to be located just northwest of Kobe port and westward of Kyoto, but a tragic event in the spring of 1860 brought their downfall of flame and guns. Before then, we housed American soldiers led by Commodore Perry when they came in 1854. I made a good friend among them, a captain named Nathaniel Carver. He taught me much of the workings of America, how they were run by presidents and different branches of Congress, the different literatures that became such a fascination to me. My people in turn taught him our political ways, how Japan was run by the Shogunate, and how the nation was built on traditions, of discipline in everything a man does, from the moment he wakes to the minute he sets his head down to sleep. It didn't matter to him how strange our homeland seemed to him, as we found how odd he and his fellow men at arms seemed to be for us. There was a connection, a desire for peace in every part of the world.

After the death of the hatamoto, which everyone inside my family knew I was not responsible for, the Aizu clan, with the reluctant assistance of the Satsuma clan, hunted after my people and killed them one by one. Our American ally, Commodore Perry, commanded his men to stay and fight to give our people a chance to flee and regroup. However, we knew too late that we were outnumbered and outmaneuvered. Even the American soldiers put up a brave fight when they depleted their bullets and gunpowder and sought to fight with blades, but in the end, Nathan, my father, my mother, my sensei and I were left to survive. My father begged for me to flee, Nathan urging me to run as well, and I had no choice but to run for the hills while they set my village to flames, leaving nothing behind for the Satsuma and the Aizu to take.

So, here I am, on the road to find a new home, and a new life to begin again...

TWO WEEKS LATER

It's been quite a while now, and I've arrived to Osaka. It's an adequate city from an outsider's view, but I've heard that some samurai have taken to a new form of entertainment: dog fighting.

I myself prefer to stay out of a nasty business such as that, but I can't help but feel my gut give with caution. I felt as though something might happen, and I unfortunately was an unarmed man. As a wolf, I could hold my own, at least long enough to set things straight and to frighten off attackers. But even so, I was still aware of the possibility that I could be overtaken.

And by my luck, I'm right; I see a group of four rough-looking ronin. I smell sake form their kimono, and I immediately veer to the left side of the road. However, it comes clear to me that they weren't bleary-eyed drunk. One takes notice of me and smirks.

"Hey, what have we here? That's a fine looking dog."

I see a second, a third and a fourth look over to my direction. They all exchange smiles.

"You're right," Says the second. "Look at those legs. He may be a sprinting dog."

"Those legs might be breakable," The third is quick to remark. "But that's a fine jowl he's got. Could be good for biting."

The fourth stays silent. Of the four of them, he's small, and has an empathetic look. He turns to his companions.

"Why don't we just move along? He doesn't look like a dog. More like a wolf to me."

"Wolves are just as good for fighting," The third turns and spits at the younger man's face. "Wolves are aggressive animals. They make for a good show in the fights. More teeth and more blood means more entertainment and good money."

I realize three of the men are circling me, and they edge close to make sure I don't run. I know better than to, despite all my wishes to bolt and just run as fast as I possibly can. They take hold of my scruff, their hands pinching nerves and bruising my bones. Not only were they tipsy, they were strong too.

I find myself unable to put up much of a fight as they haul me away. I don't have a clear view of where I'm going, but the more I follow along, the more I take notice of the change of atmosphere. The hard ground transitions to woven mats of the tatami floors as I'm carried along. I hear the men grunt and grin amongst each other. I look up and see one push open a trapdoor to an underground chamber under the floor. I'm pushed in, and the room seems dark for a moment, save for a row of kennels along the wall and a pit in the middle. There's candles in hanging lanterns, and I smell blood and dust.

I know exactly where I am. I'm in a dog fighting arena, and I don't have a way to run. I turn to the men behind me, and they take turns pushing and pulling me into a large kennel at the corner of the room. I hear other dogs barking, and I take a moment to look at the other poor mutts that were in the same room with me.

I'm shoved into a crate, my door slamming behind me. I hear a lock rattle at my door. I turn in the cramped space of the crate and look up at the men who captured me.

"That should do for you," says the first man from the road. "You'll be staying here with the rest of these dogs until later tonight. Then we'll see how you do."

So then, this is where I'll be for a while. I look ahead at the arena, the level of floor that's circled with thick wood and held by plaster. I shake my head; I admit, I wasn't looking forward to having to survive tonight's fight. But then again, what else was I to do?

I would have to bide my time for now. For the time being, I would be here, fighting for my life, for the right to survive among the maddened barks, snapping teeth and chorus of drunken amusement from the ronin...

LATER THAT NIGHT

The chamber's erupted in cheers as my captors walk over to my crate and unlock the door that holds me. Hands grab my scruff as I'm pulled out. I dig my claws into the ground in protest; No! I do not want to fight! I feel a whip snap at my backside as one of the ronin bark, "Go on, get moving!"

I hold my jowls shut for the time being and make my way to the arena. I can see an Akita there, a broad, white-chested fellow with a dark face and black ears. I size him up; he's a large dog, but I'm a wolf; I had the size advantage. The moment I get pushed into the arena, I turn and see my captors closing the gate. I look to my opponent and see his owner scramble to close the gate at his end.

The Akita and I look at one another for a moment. He's studying me, sizing me up, deciding whether to attack or defend first. I hear a deep thundering growl in his throat; he's trying to threaten me.

I return with a growl of my own; my maw pulls back in a snarl as my teeth show. My tongue arches in my mouth while a growl erupts in the depths of my throat. My eyes narrow to him, my ears as erect as they can be. I arch my back a little as my hackles rise, giving me more size.

The tactic seems to work, as the Akita barks nervously. His tail lowers as he whines. His head drops a bit as he watches me. He doesn't break eye contact with me, but I could see he was still challenged.

This worried me; would he back down? Would he fight? I approached closer, taking a strong step forward. At my movement, he lunged, snarling loudly.

I feel his teeth sink into my neck, but I lash out and do the same. My teeth sink to his skin and break the flesh. I feel warm blood pour into my mouth, but I fight to not gag and choke; I hated the taste of dog blood. I give a good shake to try to take him off balance. We both rise on our rear paws, our forelegs pressing on each other's shoulders, but I hold on and give a pull to the other direction. He starts to teeter to my right, and I jerk to the left. He teeters the other way and falls.

I pull away and growl at him again, this time demanding that he surrender. He bears his teeth at me, his body posture stiff. He wouldn't go down, not without a fight. I snarl and snap close to his head. He needed to understand; I didn't want to kill him.

The Akita lunged and held to my neck as well. No doubt this was the fighting dog that he was bred for. I felt sorrow, because if he wouldn't listen to me, then I had to kill him.

I swung my neck into an arch and snapped one of his legs. I could feel the bone snap in my jowls, hearing his cry. I turned my head, grabbed for his throat, and held on as tight as I could. I didn't want this; I didn't want to have more blood on my hands that I already had. The dog thrashed as I held on. I heard his cries and whimpers as I choked the life out of him.

Why? Why did I have to do this? The dog kicked hard at my stomach, and I shook my head. I felt his neck snap under my jowls. His body stiffens for a moment, then it slackens. Ever so gently, I lay him to the ground and turn to face my captors. Around me the crowd was rising in cheers as they beamed in pride.

I turn to look at the Akita's owner, and I was looking at a face of sorrow and defeat. The man simply falls to his knees, his eyes set on the dead dog at my paws.

I shake my head and make my way out of the arena. The gate opens before me, and my captors step aside. They pat my head and watch as I head back to my crate. I worm my way inside and simply lie on the wood frame of my prison.

I take a moment to think. If the captors hosted dog fighting events during the night, then it was possible I could escape near the morning when everyone was asleep. Once I escaped, I could make my way to Kyoto, find a better home there. However, I found myself also wondering about staying. If I stayed here, I'd stay a fighting dog, of course, but at least it was something of a life. I could get stronger, win more fights, and then go to Kyoto in the underground dog fights. I also knew that if we moved to Kyoto, the Aizu had a new formed police force, the Roshigumi.

What could I do?

Option A - Escape the Dog Arena and run to Kyoto; I'll have better luck there.

Option B - Stay a little while; I need to get stronger as a wolf

((A.n. Sorry, but gotta take a break for a moment. I'll be working on Options A and B first thing in the morning! K.R. dated 5/9/2015 11:43 ET))