I Made A Promise

I came from a long line of doctors. My father had a practice, and he taught me everything he knew, and he was still teaching me well into my adulthood. Nothing short of death could stop the man from helping me to help others. He was a very daring doctor. So daring in fact that he had started to adopt some Western medicinal techniques. He would tell me stories of English doctors who were developing ways to take out offending organs and actually replace them with healthy ones. I found them a bit hard to believe, but I never doubted that someday it could certainly happen. I would tell Tetsuro these things that my father told me. He couldn't believe a word of it.

That didn't bother me a bit, however. Tetsuro and I had been friends since our childhood. We were vastly different; it's a wonder we ever got along. I was constantly immersed in medical training, constantly reading my father's books and his patient logs. Even my mother would tease me about my ever-present curiosity. As a toddler I would open and smell the medicines my father kept, I would stumble into rooms at the clinic and ask many questions of the recovering patients. My mother tried everything to keep me in her sights and out of trouble, while my father would try to keep from laughing as he scolded me.

Perhaps Tetsuro and I weren't as different as I often thought. We were both dedicated to one thing, and would choose nothing else over them. I was a slave to medicine, he was a slave to his Kamiya Kasshin Ryu. He would practice all the time, always-devising new techniques and new ways to block his opponent. Often he would use me as a guinea pig. I wasn't much for kendo, that much is true. Sure, I would rough and tumble just like the other boys, but I would always rush home to read, or to assist my father with a surgery. The other boys would poke fun at me, they thought I was somehow arrogant because I knew more than they did, or because I refused one too many times to spar with them.

Tetsuro was different. He was a loyal friend, defending me when the fights got too rough. Once you found a friend in Tetsuro, he would not betray you. I felt indebted to him for it. When the world seemed to turn against me, he was there.

We grew up together. We didn't spend as much time together as we grew older. We were finding our own paths, living our own lives. But we never failed to visit each other at least once a week. We would have tea and talk for a whole afternoon. This would go on for years. Soon I would marry a woman who was captivatingly beautiful, the only thing that outshone her smile was her laughter. I would establish my own practice, and a few years after that, but not before the birth of his first grandchild, my father would succumb to illness. I couldn't save him with my great skill as a doctor. Sometimes that still pulls at me.

Tetsuro beamed with pride when his own wife's belly began to swell with their child. He insisted that I watch over his wife and make certain that the pregnancy and the birth would go smoothly. Of course I promised. I delivered his daughter with these hands. His wife was crying as I placed the wailing child in her arms. Tetsuro, I could tell, was trying to hide his spinning emotions. I know, because I had done the same thing when my children were born. Tetsuro and his wife gazed at each other, something very deep being emitted between the two. I knew how much they loved one another. I didn't want to intrude, so I left them alone with their daughter after a few minutes.

Kamiya and I watched each other's children grow. My children did not show the interest in medicine that I had, but I was still proud, simply because they were finding their own ways. My wife was so proud of them. Even in her last moments, she still insisted on telling them how much she loved them. I still ache when I think of that day, and the day we had to put her in the cold ground and say goodbye forever. A person like her shouldn't be in the ground. Someone like her isn't supposed to die. Tetsuro was there when we buried her, and he was the last one to leave.

I couldn't even save my own father, my own wife, from illness. Nor could I save Tetsuro's wife when she fell ill. He could have blamed me if he wanted to, and I would have accepted it. But he refused to acknowledge that it was anyone's fault but the gods. When he became ill, I was angry. Everyone around me was dying, and I could do nothing. I tried. How I tried to save my friend. But I knew deep down that it was futile.

On his last day, he spoke with me alone. We were drinking tea, just as we always did on our visits, only this time he could not even sit up. He asked me to do one thing for him. And I agreed. It was very simple. His last moment was spent with his daughter. He loved her more than anyone in this world. And now she was alone in it. Save for me.

I promised Kamiya Tetsuro that I would always watch over her. I've kept my promise to my friend, my constant companion. I've watched his daughter grow into a stubborn, trusting, beautiful woman. I let her live alone in that dojo of hers, because I know that I could not tear her away from it, even as a small child. And then that wandering swordsman came, and saved her, the boy who was her student and lastly the street fighter. Yes, I've kept my promise. But I think now is the time to let it go. I think my old friend would be proud to know that I did my job, but I think he'd be even prouder to know that I handed the torch down to such a strong protector. Yes, that rurouni of hers is going to stick around.