Story time! And poor Goemon, everyone lying to him about how awesome he is.


Seven

Goemon walked down the sidewalks of his neighborhood as he swung his sword around, the boy ignoring the odd stares he got from those around him.

His new house was in a semi-rich neighborhood, the people who lived there able to buy the large houses, but unable to afford the mansions that sat a few miles north, across the river.

His father a successful higher-up at a large Japanese company, he always got the best he could afford for his family, family that included his in-laws, unfortunately for him.

Goemon walked up the walkway of his house and through the front door.

"You're late," his dad said in a stern manner.

"Sorry, father," Goemon said as he lowered his head.

"And what did I say about you wearing those ridiculous clothes outside?"

Goemon glanced up at the angry stare of his father.

"Ridiculous clothes?" Goemon's grandfather, a thin man of average height, his hair short and just starting to gray, said as he entered the room. "Our great ancestors have been wearing these clothes for centuries," he said proudly. "To call them ridiculous is shameful."

Goemon's dad stared at the old man and sighed in annoyance. He then looked over at Goemon. "Clean up and change into decent clothing. Our reservation is in another hour."

Goemon nodded and ran up the stairs.

"I thought I told you to stop with this samurai nonsense," his father said.

"Family tradition is not nonsense."

"You are corrupting my son!"

"Pah! Corrupting, he says! I am no more corrupting him than you are. Have you ever asked your son if he wants to follow in your footsteps? Or is it just something you expect of him?"

Goemon's father glared silently at the man. "I will tell you once more. Stop training my-"

"Oh, honey, there you are," Goemon's mom said as she walked up to her husband and kissed him. "Do you think I have enough time to get those earrings I've been wanting?"

Her husband stared lovingly at her and nodded. "You have time to do anything you wish, darling."

Goemon's grandfather rolled his eyes and left the loving couple, wondering why neither could show any of that love to their son.

...

"Grandfather," Goemon said as the two sat together on the cool grass.

Goemon had survived yet another social dinner his parents had been invited to. He always hated being dragged along, having to endure foods he didn't like and being forced to be nice to people that annoyed him.

Goemon's parents hoped that by experiencing such things their son would learn to support the lifestyle they had adapted.

But no amount of fancy food and fakery could ever get their son to enjoy a lifestyle he didn't wish to follow.

"Yes, Goemon," his grandfather said, his eyes closed as the crickets started to chirp loudly around him in the late evening hours.

"Am... am I always going to be a failure?" Goemon wondered as he stared in sadness at the ground.

His grandfather opened his eyes and stared at the boy with an amused grin. "Goemon, you are not a failure. You just have much more to learn."

"But I feel as if I haven't learned anything."

"You are only eleven," he chuckled. "Why, your Uncle Goemon only begun to understand what he had been taught when he was sixteen."

"What was he like?" Goemon wondered as he stared up at his grandfather curiously.

His grandfather smiled while sighing from the happy memories. "He was a wonderful child, so full of life and happy to be living everyday. Even as the illness took over his body, he still had that radiant smile and a thirst for life."

"So he wasn't like my father."

"Oh, no, not at all. Your father is from a different people. He is a proud man like the Ishikawa's, but he has a taste for the riches in life. He is a man who will slave away for more of these riches, yet a man who will never be happy for what he has achieved."

"Mother seems to enjoy the fancy dinners, though. Father just seems to put up with it."

His grandfather smiled. "Yes... my daughter. She was such a sweet child, always dreaming about a valiant prince taking her away to his castle and showering her in gifts."

"My father is not a prince, though,"

"He is not, but he does come from a well known and very wealthy family. I thank him in my prayers every morning for making my daughter so happy."

"He's ashamed of me, isn't he. Because I carry on this name."

Goemon's grandfather grinned. "Your father's problem isn't you or your name. His problem is with himself. He sees himself as being someone he is not. Therefore, everything around him must be a part of his grand illusion."

"Father is weak," Goemon said, angered by that fact.

"Unfortunately, yes. But, he believes his wealth makes him strong. His futile way of life reminds me of a story passed down throughout the Ishikawa clan."

Goemon looked at his grandfather in anticipation, always enjoying the stories that he told.

"This story involves a powerful sword," his grandfather began, already peaking Goemon's interest. "This sword was forged from the greatest metal known to man, a metal so strong it could cut down anything in it's path."

"Does this sword actually exist?" Goemon asked excitedly.

"It does," his grandfather said with a nod. "Now, this story is important, so you must listen carefully."

Goemon nodded and kept quiet.

"The story of the swords power spread throughout the land, corrupting the minds of all who heard it's tale. They all wanted the weapon, thinking that just by holding it they would be invincible. Fearing what could be, the forger took the formula and hid it away. He then took the sword and was on his way to set it on the top of the highest mountain, knowing such weak men would never be able to obtain it. On his way there, however, he was caught, his life ended and the sword now in another man's hands.

This man became a tyrant, the swords power too much for him to handle. Armies faced off against him, but in the end only the man with the sword remained standing. Hearing about the invincible man, a strong samurai named Goemon Ishikawa V decided to stop him from his reign of murder and chaos.

The two met, the man laughing at Goemon, who said he would be taking the sword. "You are weaponless," the man mocked. "You do not scare me," he laughed.

Goemon was not phased by this, staring the man down as the man began to charge. Using his strict training, Goemon easily dodged the strikes and blows, the man soon on the ground and gasping for breath, his sword now in the hands of Goemon.

"Kill me," the man begged. "Punish me for what I have done with the weapon that ended so many innocent lives."

Goemon refused, feeling that the man's grief was the best form of punishment.

Fearing another weak minded man getting his hands on the weapon, Goemon chose to become it's guardian, fighting off all those who came to steal the sword.

The weak minds were many and generation after generation, the Ishikawa's were the guardian of the Zantetsuken.

As things progressed, however, stronger men sought the sword, until the weapon was better off sealed away, it's location only known by your great great grandfather and taken with him to his grave."

"Wow," Goemon said in amazement.

"I have heard that a man named Lupin is seeking out the sword. This must not happen, Goemon. It is of no coincidence that we moved here, the exact city Lupin currently lives in."

"What do I do?" Goemon wondered, determined to follow his grandfather's words.

"Lupin has a son. Seek him out and find out what he knows. If it is brought up, lead him in the wrong direction. Those words may get back to his father."

"Okay, I'll do that."

"It is also important that you continue your training. If the sword is one day discovered, you must retake it and guard it with your life."

"I will, grandfather."

"You must promise me you will do what it takes to protect the world from this weapon."

"I promise."