The ride back into the mountains was a hard one, for Miryu, for Algren and Katsumoto… It was because they knew that there would be a huge possibility that the next time they left the village would be their last. There was no doubt about it. The journey took two days and when night had fallen, Miryu and Algren sat by Katsumoto, each of them sitting around a small fire. There was only despair in Katsumoto's face, no hint of his stern charisma, no hint of the samurai lord of a simple village; just a man, grieving for his son. "In Tokyo I was prepared to take my own life…" he said to them, "Now I am here and Nobutada is dead, for what purpose?"
Algren was the one who answered. "To preserve your people," he said, as if it was the plainest thing in the world. Yes, it might be that they would be the last of the samurai, by heck, at least the samurai remained. No culture should ever be destroyed just to embrace a new age… Katsumoto just looked at him and told him that for 900 years his ancestors had protected his people, and now, he had failed them. The bitterness in his voice was so thick that Miryu could have sworn that she would be able to slice it in half with her katana. "Not yet," Algren continued. There was still hope, why Katsumoto could not see it?
"The Emperor could not hear my words," Katsumoto said, "It is over. His army will come, and even with our tactical advantages, we will all die… It is the end…" However, the American would have none of his words, he told him that they could make the Emperor hear them, that they would make a stand that even Omura could not defeat. "He is only interested in the ways of the new…"
Miryu refuted that. "No, he wants to embrace both old and new," she said, "I know him as you do, Katsumoto-san, the only thing that stands between him and us, is Omura. Once we defeat his army, he has no choice but to hear us out… That is why you must live on the see that end." Katsumoto knew that she feared death least of all, but the will to live within her was strong, her desire for life, burning like the flame she was. She was a daughter of the samurai, who also viewed that death was glorious in battle, but she was also a human, who wanted to spend her breathing moments to the fullest, and make them as numerous as possible. But Katsumoto knew that this ending was not for him…
Algren continued to stare at Katsumoto, who did not even heed Miryu's words. "So what?" he asked the bald man. "Are you going to surrender?" Katsumoto just answered that he would take his life, in shame. Then why did they rescue him for, if he was still going to kill himself? If Katsumoto committed seppuku, then Omura would have already won, and all that he had lived for, all that the samurai had lived for all this while would have been for nothing.
"I will die by my sword," he continued, "Or by my enemy's. We have always lived by the sword, and we have always died by it as well." The sword, known to the samurai as the katana, was their soul. Made to withstand almost everything, sharp, accurate and deadly, they embodied the samurai in almost every aspect of their lives, including the quest for utter perfection.
"Then let it be your enemy's," Algren replied. He would not allow Nobutada's sacrifice by wasted, and he would not allow everything that he had come to love disappear in the course of history. He knew that every single man under Katsumoto's orders thought the same way as he did, but what they needed was his approval and his own willingness to fight. They needed his leadership, and only he could stand up once again, and lead them into the last vestiges of glory.
Katsumoto looked at Algren, and then at Miryu. Nodding his head, he begun to understand what he needed to do, and thanked them for making him see it, one way or the other. It would be their last stand, and even if they were defeated, all those who faced them would remember how they had fought for their own beliefs, and the preservation of their way of life. And from that, they would achieve more than their ancestors could. So long that anyone would be able to recall that stand, they would be immortal.
It was already dusk when Algren and Miryu sat with Taka and her family. Usually, at dinners, Nobutada would be there as well… He would be there, constantly picking innocent and almost pointless fights with Miryu, and playing with his younger cousins, helping Taka with some other chores, and talking to Algren as well. "He was a good man," Algren said, observing the little family, unable to stop himself from thinking what responsibilities Higen would have to face if Katsumoto really did die in the coming battle… The child and his younger brother were the last remaining heirs of Katsumoto's bloodline, and all hope for the future remained in them, young as they were.
"Will you fight the white men too?" Higen asked both Miryu and Algren. Sadly, he watched them as they nodded. Algren said that they come to destroy what he had began to love, while Miryu answered that if they would not fight, the army would come to the village and raze everything to the ground… For their safety, they had to fight; there was no other choice… As if he was greatly angered by their answers, the child rose and stormed out of the house, giving Algren a little shock.
Taka just barely smiled. She had forgiven Algren for her husband's death, and had been moved even further by his words. "The way of the samurai is hard for children," she explained, "He misses his father."
At that realization, Algren suddenly felt a pang of guilt which had almost disappeared for a long, long time. "And he is angry because I am the reason of that?" To his surprise, she answered that it was because Higen was afraid that he and Miryu would die as well. The minds of children were ever so pure, Miryu told herself, remembering that she was once like Higen, a lifetime ago. If she did not fight, if she had chosen to watch, or to ignore their plight altogether like Kenshin, would they still have a chance?
Higen was out in the porch, looking at the stars when Miryu came out to talk to him, followed by Algren. "Miryu Nee-chan, my father taught me that it was glorious to die in battle," he told her, looking at Algren as well. Algren told the boy that it was what his father had believed to be, and nothing more. "I… I would be afraid to die in battle…" For someone so young, he had seen enough bloodshed, as all samurai children. Even before he could have remembered, when he was but one year old, Miryu had faced ten men trying to kill him and Taka, and she remembered clearly that the blood of the Bakufu agents she had killed were splattered all over him as Taka held him in a white blanket.
"So would we," Miryu said. She did not know about Algren, but her words were chosen so that she would actually comfort the child. She had thoughts like his father as well, who would often tease her that she should remain at home cooking and sewing instead of seeking more glorious ways to die, even as they fought back to back… Looking at Algren, she continued, "We have been in countless battles, but we were always afraid."
Higen sniffled a little bit, and told them both, "I don't want you to go…" He hugged Miryu and Algren as best he could with his tiny arms, and they returned the gesture openly. However, the tender moment was interrupted by Nakao, who told them with a bow that the Imperial Army was already coming. It would be a little more than a day later that the army would reach the battlefield, but preparations had to be done already. Giving Higen one last look, the two of them went to see Katsumoto with Nakao, hand in hand.