Omoide - Memories

The moon peered through the window of an inn by a river, into a room where the girl sat quietly. The futon lay on the other side of the room, still folded. Indeed, Kenko hadn't slept on a futon for a long time. She had taken to sleeping sitting up, although sleeping was something she did little of. She held her katana close by; she had seen too many careless men killed to not be cautious. Also, it comforted her… as a killer should be comforted by their weapon, she'd reasoned with herself bitterly. The left side of her face throbbed gently with the cut she had received from the man called Kiyosato a week ago, and memories kept surfacing, including some she would rather not remember.

Kenko shifted her position against the wall she lent against. The cut on her cheek felt as if it was bleeding, but when she felt it, it was only wet. Sighing, she slowly lowered her eyelids, and her grasp on her scabbard loosened as she slipped into memories of days past.

To start with, the few memories of childhood she had, training with Master, fighting with Master…

The sun's rays caused the snow on the mountain to reflect a bright glare at those who looked at it. But nothing could match the glare of the red-haired girl who stood opposite her master.

"I cannot allow you to leave this mountain, Kenko," Hiko stood back from the infuriated girl, well aware why she made the request. But it was still no excuse for her sudden decision to abandon her training to go down to Kyoto, the wicked city ravished with death and murder every night, to attempt something that was impossible.

Kenko's eyes flashed with anger. "But Master! While you interpret philosophy, scores of people are being crushed by the disturbance day after day. Hiten-Mitsurugi is meant to be used to protect the innocent and defenseless, right? Its teachings are fruitless if they are not used to do so. You must let me go!"

The tall man forced himself to ignore the piercing eyes that burned through him. "How do you plan to defend those people with your limited knowledge? There is more than one side down there. Will you choose the less evil of the two factions in this futile conflict as do its bidding? I did not bestow my Master's Mitsurugi-Ryu's principles on you so you could become the pawn of nefarious men and tarnish it like that. You can change nothing. The troubles of the outside world are perpetual."

"And by virtue of that I'm supposed to turn my back and live here with you in self-ordained ignorance?"

"You contemptuous whelp!" Hiko was becoming angry himself now. "Do you not understand? What will you do after you lend your arm to this disturbance? If you want to attempt to affect a change in the violence down there, you have to join one side or the other, which will use you to do their will. Pay no attention to these external distractions and concentrate on your training!"

Kenko swung her sheathed sword in anger. "People are being oppressed in front of me! They are suffering. I cannot turn my back on them! I will not!"

"Mitsurugi-Ryu is the most powerful form of sword technique. It is the Black Ship of absolute power that sails the land (1)." Hiko knew that the baka deshi would have to understand the power when explained in such a simple manner, and was determined to make her understand. "When your training is complete, you'll be the strongest of swordsmen, despite your gender, and your mind will be as strong as your sword. As you are now, you cannot control your own power. You must keep training before you can hope to do anything."

It seemed that his idiot apprentice did not understand. "The people that are dying in the grip of the Bakufu alliance cannot wait that long – your words mean nothing to them! You say Mitsurugi-Ryu's power is like the Black Ships. That is why I must use it now! To protect the people from these painful times! That is its purpose, Master! Why don't you understand it yourself?"

"Swordsmanship is a method of murder, do you hear me!" Hiko yelled into the cold winter air. "You can ornament it with all sorts of pretty words, but that's what it is. Murder is the only art a swordsman can practice. Kill some people in order to protect others. You want to protect people with murder? You'll slaughter legions just so a few may live!" Looking down at the girl, he knew he finally had her attention. "Murder is the final principle of all sword techniques. As you know, I have murdered hundreds of men. Yes, they were evil, but they were human beings first and foremost, Kenko. They were merely trying to live their lives the only way they knew how. The world you ardently desire to enter will not know what to do with you. If you leave this mountain, it will deceive you into believing you are saving lives, even as you are destroying them under the direction of men who write their own justice. If you throw your lot in with them, Mitsurugi-Ryu make you a mass murderer, staining your hands with the worst of offences." He watched her absorb his words, hoping that she'd finally accept them.

Kenko's hand tightened its grip on her scabbard, her violet eyes set. "Perhaps," she called out, "Even so, I want to help those who are suffering. If only by being stained will my hands bring relief to people who have learnt to live without hope, then so be it. I want to rescue those people with my own hands. Many people, countless lives, as many as I can! I must leave to do so!" Kenko's eyes widened, then narrowed as Hiko turned away. "Master! Listen to me!"

"It is foolish to listen to those who will not listen to you." Hiko, now not facing the girl, let his face fall in disappointment. Not at his stupid apprentice, but at himself. But he was determined not to let his voice show his thoughts. "I am wasting my breath with a simpleton like you! Do what you wish. Go down there and be consumed by the violence of men."

Behind him, Kenko let her face show all its frustration. "Fine…" She muttered, turning away. With that, she walked away from the hut, her home for the last few years, for the last time.

He turned around and watched the child leave the place where he had trained her. He couldn't help but feel some guilt as he turned back to his hut, muttering, "I have fed her to the wolves…"

Kenko's dull eyes slowly opened, and she looked outside the window. The moon was still watching. One of her master's favourite subjects to talk about was the moon. She was sure he was sitting somewhere, with that huge bottle of sake of his, staring up at the same moon. She almost felt remorse for talking to her master so rudely. After all, he had been speaking the truth, and was trying to protect her from the violence down in Kyoto. But it was too late now to worry about it.

"Master…" she murmured as she slowly fell asleep again.

I will speak right to the point. I am asking you to kill… It isn't pleasant, but it's the truth. There are certain men out there who wish to keep this rotten government in power, and are ignoring the people's pain and suffering. You just said that you wished to help people with your sword. I can help you do that. But I must warn you that your life will change the moment your blade cuts through another person. Tell me… will you kill for me?

Her katana sliced through the air easily as it sliced through the man's head. The blood sprayed from the cut like the water had sprayed from the waterfall where she had trained with Master. She looked up to the sky, moonlight filtering through the branches of the trees. It was strange. She had expected to feel something. She had just killed another human being, she thought she would falter when she had lifted her sword.

"Oi, kid!" A voice behind her caused her to spin around. A man was running up the road, a piece of paper in his hand. "Good job!"

She stared at him as he went past her and started to inspect the fallen body. "Iizuka-san…?"

"Yeah. I'm sure I told you I'm Katsura's head field-man…" The man called Iizuka moved to look at the cut head on. "Nice clean cut, there. I'm impressed – I have to say that when you first came and I heard that you were to be the new hitokiri, I had my doubts. But you've sure stamped them out now." Standing up, he saw the blank look on her face. "Listen, Himura – try not to lose your head like so many others do on their first kill."

"I'm stronger than I thought," she replied, her voice void of emotion, "I feel nothing, no regret."

Blinking at the tone of voice, Iizuka shook his head. It was probably nothing. "Good," he smiled, passing her a cloth to clean her sword with, "The key to this job is speed and accuracy. I can see you have both. Now, since there's no point hangin' around the kill afterwards, let's get the hell outta here!"

Kenko slid the cloth over the bloody blade, her mind no longer pondering her lack of consciousness.

I want to help bring the era of peace closer, so that all people can live in peace…

Sliding her weapon back into its sheath, she began thelong walk back home, slowly moving through the moonlit backstreets.

To do this… I will serve as Heaven's Justice, and my sword shall dispense punishment to the old order. My bloody hands will assure its creation. To create this world where people can live without fear…

As she got closer to the inn, a strong smell invaded her senses, distracting her thoughts, which were going over the movements she had executed.

I will kill.

When she got back to room in the inn, she could finally no longer ignore the smell, and shelooked down at her clothes for the first time. They were soaked with the man's blood. She had killed another person. Her stomach heaving, she retched in the corner of her room.

In the last six months of being a hitokiri, she had changed. She managed to control her sickness after a kill. The actual killing part was fine now – she had no feeling towards the life of her target and those around them. Although in some circumstances, during a particularly heated battle, she found herself close to enjoying the challenge. It scared her when she would remember later.

Indeed, she was hardly ever affected these days.

In her sleep, Kenko shifted uncomfortably, eyebrows furrowing. Unconsciously, her grip on her sword tightened as the dreams became bloodier.

Except at night, when she dreamed.

Blinking, Kenko saw herself in a wide street, the moon above her shining impossibly bright. Despite this, thought, only a small amount of its light reached where she stood, with none touching the silhouettes of buildings around her. Squinting, she saw a shape coming out of the shadows. It turned out to be a man, eyes hollow as he quickened his pace to run at her. Seeing his hand reaching for his sword, hers did likewise. Before she began to draw, she recognised the man as one of her previous assignments – businessman Kikuchi Naruyoshi. As she struck, the blood that came from his chest enveloped his whole body, splashing onto the ground before.

Eyes wide, she almost didn't notice the next man coming. Retired senator Urata Keishi roared as he drew his sword, but the blade had barely left the scabbard before she had drawn and cut down the man. As his bloody form fell, the next one appeared. Armsdealer Kaneto Satoru never even drew before her sword was all over him, gleaming in the moonlight.

As the progression continued, the ground beneath her seemed to become a river of blood. But unable to stop, her sword kept adding to the flow as more men came forward. Kawamoto Toshihiro, Honda Tsuneo, Yasuo Sano, Miyauchi Gakutaro and Imahori Hitoshi joined the bloodbath. After felling Shigekura Jibeh, she tried to control her breathing. She was exhausted, and the smell of blood was starting to make her nauseous. But as she looked back up, she saw one last figure staggered out of the shadows. Setting her face, she ran to meet him, eager to get it over with.

"I fight… to your death!" The bodyguard called Kiyosato cried out as he drew closer. A sudden wave of shock went through her. All the previous victims had been her assignments, but this man… If he hadn't been there that night, he would still be alive. She didn't want to kill this man again, but her bloody katana was already swinging on its own to give the final blow.

Just before they met, she saw his expression properly. Fear.

Kenko woke up again, more suddenly than the last time. Taking a shaky breath, she realised that her cheek was stinging. She raised her fingers to it again, and pulling away, she saw a light red smudge on them.

During the actual fight between herself and the bodyguard, his face had shown the exact same expression. She had seen fear before, but nothing like that. It wasn't that he was more scared than the others, but that his fear seemed to lie in a different place. This fact had startled her slightly, disrupting her concentration. Because of that distraction, she had forgot to look out for the blade pointing at her. And subsequently, she had received the cut on her face. She hoped that she never saw that expression ever again.

After a long time, she drifted back into uneasy sleep, to be greeted with even more of the men she had killed…

Notes:
The Black Ships – in Kaei 6 (1853), Commodore Matthew Calbraith Perry sailed into Tokyo Bay with a squadron of four coal-powered 'black' ships to force Japan to start trading with foreign countries again. Their coming, as well as leading to the opening of the country, triggered national unrest and led to the start of the Bakumatsu. At first sight (the last ships Japan had plans from were from early 17th century), the monstrous ships threw Edo (yes, I know it's called Tokyo now, but you're going to have to get used to it – this story is based when the city was called Edo) into a panic. Because of the law that had banned outsiders from entering Japan since the start of the Tokugawa Shogunate, the American ships were often used as a synonym for something with great power.

Translations:

Katana – long sword
Baka deshi – stupid apprentice
Oi - hey
Hitokiri - assassin