The first year of Genji (1864), Kyoto. Start of spring.
The moon was hiding itself behind the clouds, afraid of what would happen during the night. However, three men were finding it hard to see where they are going through the back streets without its light, even with their lanterns. The youngest of the group, Kiyosato, was very aware of the dangers of walking out late on a cold, spring night like this.
"It's dangerous here, and it's getting late," he said, somewhat to himself, "We should hurry. Lately there have been more of those hitokiri appearing…"
The largest man, Ishiji, scoffed. "Like that so-called Hitokiri Battousai? Whether he exists or not, we'll crush the rebellion soon. There's no need to worry."
The eldest, Shigekura, smiled at both of them. "Now, now, let's not talk about depressing things like that when we've got reason to celebrate." He turned his attention to the younger man. "I've heard the good news, Kiyosato." His smile widened at the confused expression he received. "You know what I'm talking about. You're going to be married next month, aren't you?"
He grinned, turning back to the path they were walking, "That's right…"
"You lucky to be marrying such a beautiful bride – and your childhood sweetheart no less…"
Ishiji gave up his gruff mood as he jabbed the young man in his ribs. "You lucky dog." He laughed quietly as Kyousatou thanked him, while rubbing his side.
No one but the moon noticed the footsteps that were following them.
Kiyosato's face went a bit more sober, looking back over his shoulder. "I feel badly about it, though. Why should I have so much happiness when so many others are miserable?"
Two intense eyes followed their every move, blazing amber. Still only the moon noticed.
"What are you talking about, Kiyosato?" Shigekura demanded, "In this world, everyone's trying to find a little happiness. That shouldn't stop a man from being happy, should it? Each man must seize happiness for himself, regardless of the sorry state of the world. And you should be glad that your brother so readily accepts your decision – I know what he's like."
A clear summer's day. Kiyosato sipped his green tea and smiled. The garden outside was… curious, in want of a better way to describe it. He looked inside to see his fiancée joking with his younger brother. They looked up and see him. She smiled lightly, melting his heart.
"I'm sorry, but I must accompany Shigekura-san to his meetings. I will return no later than spring. We must try to be patient, both of us." Stepping back inside, he adds, "I'll bring you back a ground cherry from my travels… along with my undying love."
A noise caused him to look at his brother. He was covering his mouth with his hand, his deep black eyes flashing with suppressed laughter. He smirked back.
"You are Shigekura Juubeh, of the Kyoto Shoshidai, aren't you?"
The moon wavered behind its concealing veil as the group turned as one, to see a young samurai standing behind them. They stood in a relaxed pose, but the eyes that observed them were so fierce that it sent shivers down their backs… to think that such a soft voice had come from him. It could not be a boy – it had to be a demon. They watched as it took a few more steps forward and continued, "Now, old man, you will pay for your tyranny."
Kiyosato's face went dark. A hitokiri - just what he needed. Leaping next to his master, hand on hilt, he called out, "Try it!"
Shigekura rested his hand on the man's shoulders. "Relax – it's just some kid with a grudge against those with power." He threw his voice towards the hitokiri. "You think you can change the world with your sword?"
Ishiji leapt in front of them both, his hand already pulling his katana out. "Who are you?" The hitokiri did not answer. Running forward, he yelled out, "Answer me!"
He swung his sword downwards; the hitokiri easily blocked with the hilt of its still sheathed katana. Pushing it aside, it then flipped it over and jabbed Ishiji in the eye. While he cried out in pain, the sheath was pulled back quickly into battou-jutsu stance, and the sword whipped out in at an unimaginable speed. The blade bit into the man's side, a small hand pushed the back of the blade to help it go right through. The blood sprayed across the walls, but didn't touch the hitokiri as it seemed to fly into the air.
Eyes wide, Kiyosato threw himself in front of his master, only to be shoved away. "No! It's me he wants. You must not die now…" A sword coming from above stopped Shigekura from finishing his sentence. The hitokiri jerked the blade out of the head it had impaled, landing nearby as the body fell.
"Shigekura-san!" Kiyosato struggled to stand, only just getting his bearings quickly enough to see the hitokiri look at him. It seemed to hesitate for a moment, but even so the speed of its blade was almost too much for him to dodge. Stumbling around him, he stared at the severed latticework where he was standing a second ago. The technique it used that cut even as it drew its sword, its movements, its eyes… it had to be the Hitokiri Battousai. His death was assured.
But he could not die now. People he loved were waiting for him back home. He would not die.
Turning around slowly, the Battousai looked at the man struggling to get his breath, holding up his katana in a desperate attempt to save face. If only he wasn't there. Lifting its own sword, the piercing eyes caught the light of the hiding moon as it turned the blade over. "Surrender – drop your sword."
"I will not!" Kiyosato screamed as he ran forwards to his eminent doom, as the hitokiri's sword easily knocked his back and cut across his arm.
'I cannot die,' Another cut to his abdomen. 'I cannot die yet!' Another across his back. 'I refuse to die! ' He pushed himself up with his sword, blood seeping through his clothes, and faced the Battousai.
In the fifteen years between the coming of the Black Ships and the Meiji era, slogans were thrown around during the violence.
"Honor the emperor" "Destroy the shogunate" "Expel the barbarian" "Open the country"
Amidst all these ambitions and ideals, those who carried swords were split into two, Tokugawa Shogunate and Ishin Shishi imperialists.
This was the Bakumatsu. The Revolution. (1)
"I fight… to your death!"
The two samurai ran forward, the Battousai's sword swinging laterally, the doomed man's held up helplessly. The blows were exchanged as they flew past each other. The Battousai's eyes widened as it regained its balance, a sharp pain was searing its cheek. Kiyosato's eyes widened as he fell to the ground – blood erupted from the slash from his shoulder to hip.
The Battousai stood still in shock, slowly lifting its hand to its face. Wincing, it traced the cut with its fingers, and looked at them - there was blood. Behind them, Kiyosato was crying. His bloody fingers reached out to the people in his heart.
"I don't want to die… I'm sorry, koishii, brother…"
He did not hear the hitokiri he recognised come up behind him, murmuring, "Though I bear you no grudge, for the sake of the new era… I must have your death."
"I tried to live for you… don't let me die… Ikue… To" His words were cut short in his throat by the sword that drove through it. His hand fell to the pool of his own blood.
As the moon finally came out of hiding, two men came from around the corner. But the Battousai didn't turn around. One of the men moved closer. "Himura…"
No response.
"Hey, Kenko!"
"… Yes, Iizuka-san?" She turned around, and he saw the cut on her face. His eyebrows rose in amazement, then frowned. "You're hurt?" She shook her head slightly, cleaning her bloody sword with a cloth. "Hmm, well not badly at least. But for a bodyguard to actually marked you… He must have been skilled."
"No," she murmured, sliding the blade back into its sheath. "Just stubborn. His skill itself was nothing, but his will to live…" Walking away, she looked back over her shoulder to see that the other man had placed the 'Tenchu' message on Kiyosato's back. Her face softened slightly.
"May you find happiness in the next world…"
"Did you say something?" Iizuka asked as she walked on.
"No, nothing…"
The other man watched the young girl go. "Will to live, huh… I guess a first-class swordsman can tell that just by crossing swords with someone – even if she is a girl…"
Iizuka nodded. "Yeah… Maybe she could, but she killed them all without even blinking. This ain't something a girl could do, you know," he motioned to the butchered man, "She really is a hitokiri…"
The moon watched as a pair of hands lifted up a bucket of water, and poured its contents over the young girl. Her swords were leaning up against a barrel, the black envelope and a spinning toy sitting upon it. As the water dripped off her clothes and red hair, her mind wandered to another time, when she was innocent.
The sun lingered in the sky, watching two people standing at the base of a waterfall. One was a tall man wearing a white cape. The other was a small child, her piercing violet eyes not moving away from her master.
"Now, attack me! Faster!" The young Kenko nodded, holding the wakazashi in front of her. Hiko smiled.
She grows stronger, forging her strength every day, improving her skill with a sword as only those who desire nothing more can. Her body also grows, but her mind remains that of a petulant child. She is pure… but so are fools.
Kenko runs forward through the water, yelling. He easily knocks her back.
Yes, she is so pure that one would almost call her a simpleton.
The first principle of Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryu.
Kenko held a cloth to her face, the water still dripping into her dull eyes.
The sword swung in Mitsurugi-Ryu is swung for the people of the world, for the protection of the weak.
Pulling her hand away, she looked at the red line that stained it.
It is swung to prevent the shedding of innocent blood.
Notes:
(1) The Meiji Restoration, the Bakumastu ('End of the Baku-fu), toppled the Tokugawa shogunate, "restored" imperial rule, and transformed the country from a feudal into a modern state. The opening of Japan's ports to Western colonial fleets, coerced by Matthew Calbraith Perry, with his "Black Ships", and others from 1853 onwards, exposed the weakness of the Tokugawa shoguns, and triggered nationalist unrest, under the slogans such as 'revere the emperor, expel the barbarians'. Radicals inspired by the ideas of Motouri Norinaga saw a solution in the revival of imperial "direct rule"—especially young samurai from the western daimyo fiefs of Choushuu and Satsuma, which had never embraced Tokugawa suzerainty. By the 1860s shogunate and daimyo were importing Western technology and proposing new governmental structures to meet the foreign threat. In 1867 pro-imperial daimyo suggested that shogun Tokugawa Yoshinobu should step down and acknowledge imperial authority. Yoshinobu agreed in principle in November 1867, but mistrustful Satsuma radicals seized the imperial palace in Kyoto on January 3, 1868, and proclaimed a restoration under the young Emperor Meiji. Yoshinobu's forces were thrown back from Kyoto, and an "imperial army" of Choushuu, Satsuma, and Tosa clan forces secured peaceful surrender of the shogunal capital Edo (renamed Tokyo in 1869). Most daimyo stayed neutral, and the civil war ended in 1869. Yoshinobu retired and left government to Saigo Takamori, Okubo Toshimichi, Kido Takayoshi (also known as Katsura Kogoro), and other restoration leaders.
Translations:
Hitokiri Battousai – 'hitokiri' means assassin/manslayer, and literally translated means 'man-cutter'. The 'Battou' part comes from the sword technique battou-jutsu – the art of drawing a sword (while cutting at the same time, so that the draw is an attack in itself), which Kenko's style of sword uses a lot. The 'sai' part is an old suffix used in Japanese nicknames, so 'Battousai' could be translated as something stupid like 'Sword-Drawer.'
Koishii – love, beloved
Tenchu – translates to 'Justice from Heaven'.
Wakazashi – the short sword that samurai carry. Its use is actually for seppuku (ritual suicide), but it's a good length blade for a child to practice with.