Now I had a reason to continue my training beyond mere amusement, and above the generic skill of an aristocratic scion. Now I knew I had to become great.
I threw myself into my training, both with the sword, and on the study of military tactics and history. Later my sensei told me that my eyes seemed to burn with the inner flame of purpose. I was good before, but now I was even better. Each day I placed a new challenge on myself, to become faster, to run further, or to lift more weights. At the same time I was strengthening my body I was also extending my knowledge. This is why such an out of the way place benefitted me so much. There were few distractions. Here, a young boy would not be tempted by the aspects of the city, nor were there fellow boys to call him to play. I doubt, however, that if there were, I would have followed.
There was only one person who could call me away from my furious exercise. She appeared during the last year I would spend in the temple on the mountain.
Her name was Tomoe Gozen.
Of course, when she first appeared everyone believed that this newcomer was a boy. She, or rather, he made a very pretty boy and it was murmured that she was the manifestation of Murasaki's prince Genji. Of no relation to our family though. Tomoe had come to perfect her archery skills and to perfect the use of the spear. She was already able to defeat most men, but she was the type of person who was not happy until she achieved perfection."
He stopped here. And for a while he seemed wrapped in his own thoughts. For once they appeared happy thoughts. I was reminded of the expression I often caught on my face when I glanced at a reflective surface as I thought of my own wife. I think we sat there like to lovelorn fools smiling at the moon for quite some time.
"The first time we met face to face was on the practice field. We were both dripping with sweat. It was the hottest part of the summer and I had discarded my shirt so as to feel even the smallest of breezes. I was somewhat surprised to see a smaller, more dainty figure wielding a sword nearly twice his size at the other end of the field. I was also amazed at his tolerance, his shirt was still on and he was standing in an area without any hope of a shadow.
So of course, being overly competitive, I challenged him. He gave no response, merely nodded and stood in the ready position. This was almost rude. The withholding of his name implied that I was not a worthy opponent. I decided that he was most likely too rustic to know of such formalities, I would excuse his lack of manners in this situation.
We matched blades, it was a much more even fight than I expected. He had considerable strenght, not equal to mine, but he used what he had to his advantage. When it came to contests of strength, he would push back just enough so that I would add more strength into my thrust, and then he would let go so that, if I was not careful, I would lose my balance and he would be able to swiftly cut me from the side. The men I had trained with had all focused on building up the muscular aspects of swordfighting, not the art behind it. As I started to adapt to his style of fighting he lost ground and then regained it in a continuous back and forth.
After much of the same, we finally both backed off and met each other's eyes. With this small signal we broke off, too exhausted to continue. Sheathing my sword, I extended my hand.
"My name is Jinenchi" I told him " you are a worthy opponent. What may I call you?"
He looked at me for a moment, and I had time to find surprise at just how long his eyelashes were, before he glanced away.
"I am called Tomoe" he answered and bowed. I bowed back and we both took our leave. Without realising it, we were both thinking the same thing. It was time for a relaxing bath in the springs.
I knew of a relatively secluded spot further in to the forests, and I headed in that direction.
It was not until I was practically at the spring that I was able to distinguish the sound of splashing from the running of the water. It would seem that the spring was already occupied. I did not think much of it, expecting it would be one of the various warriors roaming about the temple complex, and I went to step in to a different section of the spring.
It was at that moment that he, or rather she, chose to unbind her hair. I could immediately tell that this was no male's hair. For one thing, it was too fine, it appeared almost like silk, and for another, it was too well cared for. Most of us would give our hair a brief rinse and then pull it back up into a topknot. The hair I saw before me looked like it was brushed nightly.
During the duel earlier that day, I had managed to scratch my opponents arm, and that same scratch was present on this anonymous' woman's arm.
I tripped over a stone at that moment and managed to keep my balance, but I must have made some small noise as she looked up. Fortunately she still had her under shirt and hakama on, but she blushed scarlet and reached for her sword. I backed up, I knew well her skill with the sword, and, though she appeared equally exhausted, I was not about to gamble my well being on this appearance.
At my retreat she relaxed and lowered her sword while grumbling.
"Kuso, I was so sure of this clothing fooling the most observant. What gave me away?" she demanded, turning her attention back to me. She had clear grey eyes.
"Nothing" I somehow managed to stammer out. "I was merely coming to bathe. I did not know anyone else was familiar with this particular spring."
She looked at me for a moment, as if considering. Then she nodded.
"Well then, I must ask young sir who says his name is Junichi, that you keep my secret. It is not the safest path to take for a lady who wishes to learn the art of the sword. To many are willing to take advantage of her supposed weakness. And it is annoying to have to kill so many idiots."
She said that blankly with no hint of humor, but her eyes danced merrily. This dark sense of humor appealed to me. This woman was strong, not like the fainting flowers I had met previously, and I felt I could trust her in turn. So I gave her my word along with my name as surety. In retrospect, that was a bit too impulsive for my situation. It seemed to turn out fine, in the end, as she never betrayed me while it was still necessary to keep my anonymity.
We were simply friends at that point, and I treated her much as I would have treated a male friend. She did not seem to mind, and she kept up with me easily.
We would spend the morning training together. She worked under the same sensei as me, and we were at the level where the katas were a mere formality that we used to warm tup. Then we would usually duel. After which we would break off to eat in the mess hall with everyone else and then on to the archery range. She had the victory there as she had acquired much more skill on her travels than I. But she was a good teacher.
Our days were not spent completely enmeshed in our training. As I said before, she was the only one who could pull me away from my martial activities. On some days it was exploring the forest, on others an excursion on horseback up to the top of the mountain. Sometimes it was just a few miles from the temple, and we would sit and talk about everything and nothing.
She was just one year younger than I, but our experiences were nothing alike. It was fascinating for me to get that insight into the world of women. I had been raised primarily among boys and, beyond the slight glimpses of our guardian's daughters, I knew practically nothing of what women did with their lives.
I was, in her words, 'her young innocent' and she would lord that over me at times when we were playfully arguing about one thing or another.
I suppose she was not what one would call a normal woman, but after all, who wants normal when one meets extraordinary. I will not say she was not beautiful. It was just that I did not see that part of her as important when compared to her mind. And her mind was purely masculine, or at least that was what I thought at the time.
I never asked for her full name. I did not ask her who her family was or why she was here. I believed that if she believed I should know, then she would tell me. On that same note, she never asked her 'boy who says his name is Junichi' just what my connections were to merit such respect from the temple inhabitants.
I thought I recognized the name Tomoe, was it not the female samurai who fought at the side of Minamoto Yoshinaka? Was she not the one who it was whispered, had married Yoshinaka and witnessed his death poem? I sensed a story in this connection.
"That is an evil laugh" I remarked as I came up behind her in the hallways between the mess hall and the sleeping area. "What mischief are you plotting, I wonder. Does it perhaps have something to do with the missing hot sauce and the head abbot's plate?" I mused at the wall above her head.
She was in the midst of one of her various ploys to annoy the master. We had both taken a dislike to him, her dislike was simply expressed more obviously than mine. Of course he never knew who to blame for so many odd things happening to him. It surprised me sometimes just how fun she managed to make life. She was often serious, but never fell into the black moods that I sometimes sank into.
"How do you always see through my plans" she demanded.
"I read minds" I told her without blinking.
"I just bet you do."
She taught me how to play. It was a lesson I had never learned. My elder brother was too wrapped up in his studies to spend time frolicking. We had only talked, there were none of the outdoors roughousing that was normal for brothers, nor have I ever seen him indulge in something just for the fun of it. Noriyori, well at that point he was not very active. He was already beginning to develop signs of being the indulging delinquent that he later became as an adult.
It was on one of our exursions through the forest, in the last year we spent together there, that she told me her story.
"I was supposed to be a boy" she started. "My mother told me this as soon as I could understand the words. Everything had counted on me being male. Her hopes, her future and the family's standing. Alas it was not to be. When I appeared to the world as a wailing red thing, her words not mine, I was missing important pieces of equipment. In other words, a failure.
My family was not wealthy. We held rank, but it was not high enough to allow sufficient income, especially for such a large household. I was not the first effort for a male heir, in fact, my father was cursed with four previous girls, three of which had already died in the normal childhood illnesses. If one does not succeed at first, try and try again.
We lived on the outskirts of Kyoto and my sister and I were often sent to the markets there to try and find some food for the family. Of course my family had land and a small garden, but they were too proud to work in the field, and too poor to be able to afford the hiring of a servant, so it was generally left to us lesser daughters. A son would never have had to work so.