Miryu, Katsumoto and Algren looked to the valley below, and saw the Imperial Army marching towards them in highly organized columns, their formations precise and strict… These were no longer the farm-boys and peasants that Algren had trained the last year, no, these were soldiers, and their mission was to rid the world of the samurai… "I'd say about five thousand," Algren said, guessing their number. "They'll come in waves of a thousand, a few minutes apart… and they have the howitzers." No single force could withstand the cannons, it was a fact.
However, Miryu had a plan. "What if I lead a small group of men and take out their guns and those howitzers?" she asked Algren, citing her prior experience of cutting down enemy artillery during the Bakamatsu. But Katsumoto refused to give her permission to do so, although it would be a wise move indeed. If Miryu was not present in the front lines, the men would be demoralized, as their best fighter would have been thought to have abandoned the cause, and they could not afford that outcome at all.
"Five hundred of five thousand, it does not matter," Katsumoto said, "They will come and we will make our stand…" When Algren asked how many men he had, the rebel leader gave him a truthful, blatant answer. "Five hundred… like Custer, no?" Miryu smiled at the mention of General Custer, the American General that led 208 American soldiers to death at the Battle of the Little Big Horn, whose ultimate and heroic death had reached the shores of Japan not long before Algren's arrival. He had been the General's subordinate, as he had told her before… But those numbers would have fitted a more classical, ancient battle before…
And it seemed highly apparent that Algren knew of that battle, and Miryu decided to let him speak of it, silently startled of his knowledge of the classics. "There was once a battle in a place called Thermopylae, where three hundred Greeks held off a Persian army of a million men," he told Katsumoto. "A million… do you understand this number?" When Katsumoto had assured him that he understood the number, he continued, "For two days the Greeks made them pay so dearly that the Persian army lost all taste for battle and were defeated soon after." There was more to the Battle of Thermopylae than just a king leading his men for a last stand, just because their laws had forbidden retreat, it was a battle for honor, glory and freedom, much like what they were doing now… It would be a battle to remember, a battle to be a reminder that they had fought for the coexistence between old and new…
"Even if all of us die in the coming battle, we will still be remembered by those who fought us and survived," Miryu told Katsumoto. "Our memory would remain with them, and they will pass that memory down… We shall never be forgotten, and that is where we shall gain the greatest victory…" At her words, Katsumoto smiled. Miryu always had a way with words, and her ideals of prolonging life had always been her goal, even now, even as she knew that she could be rushing to her own death. She really was a special warrior… He then asked her and Algren if they believed that they believed that one's destiny could be changed, and to that, the latter said that he thought that one would do what one could until his or her destiny was revealed.
That answer pleased Katsumoto greatly, and he bowed them farewell for the night, returning to his home. There would be a lot to do in the morning, that they needed the rest from the long ride that all of them had endured.
The next day, the entire village was abuzz with activity; there were great balls of dried grass, covered with pitch to be made, wooden fortifications against the countless rains of bullets they would have to face, and arrows to be fletched. Miryu had received a suit of leather from the tanners, a suit that could enable the movement and agility that no garb could grant her of Japanese tradition. And into the distance, tents upon tents of samurai clans were made, confirming that there were samurai who would die to protect their way of life and their own beliefs.
Graham, not one to be brought down by the solemn mood, was contented by the opportunity to capture many, many photographs of the samurai, and he had even the chance to take a candid shot of Algren and Miryu walking in a quiet trail, hand in hand, as though nothing had happened… He was the first gaijin to have this chance, to capture such a collection of samurai life, a culmination of a thousand years of tradition and pride, and he was greatly honored.
At dusk, Miryu and Ujio sparred with one another, dancing through their respective kata one last time before the day of the battle came. Night was spent in utter quiet, and before long, the time had come for them to meet the Imperial Army in the field of battle. Just as Algren and Miryu were walking into Taka's house to offer her family their last goodbyes, she led them into her husband's shrine, and said, "It would honor us if you would wear this armor," and gestured towards the armor that Hirotaro once used.
Algren was speechless. He had killed the man who wore the set of armor, and yet, his wife granted him permission to wear that same armor into battle. He bowed low, thanking her most sincerely, and Miryu, already in her leather suit, decided to aid him in putting it on. Smiling, Taka excused herself from the room, giving the lovers some privacy.
That single moment between Algren and Miryu, was silent, and tender. They did not know that they would survive the battle or whether any one of them had to live without the other… As Miryu undressed him, carefully placing each item onto his body, Algren could see that tears had begun to well in her sapphire eyes. He was a failure, he told himself. He had known her to be a woman of strength from the first moment he met her, yet, it was he, who caused much of her tears in recent times. He wanted to say something, to make it all better, but he could not, for he did not know what words to use, what words to say to her.
"There," she whispered, after a long silence, regarding him in samurai finery once she had finished… Forcing herself to smile, she suddenly found herself in his arms, and slowly began to cry openly. She was never afraid to die, but she could not imagine a life without him by her side, now that she had found him. Her existence had been one of duty, one of honor, and for a small while, one of darkness and shame, but the moment he had entered her life, it had been one where she had come to find love… "I love you…" she murmured softly, feeling his large hand on the back of her head, another, on the small of her back, holding her as tight as ever.
Algren inhaled the soft scent of her hair, and replied, "I love you too…" Their lips met, tentative at first, progressing into a kiss that they would never forget, one that was bittersweet, without the passion they had known for one another, aiming to comfort, and to reassure that somehow, they would survive the coming ordeal. Taking her white hands in his, he started to kneel, and said, "I cannot promise you anything, Miryu, and I… cannot give you what an Emperor can… but before we go to battle, I want to ask this of you… Miryu, will you marry me?"
The woman standing before him was shocked. Surely he could not be joking, proposing to her in a time like this… but then again, what could be a better time? When they were dying in the battlefield, or perhaps when they would meet one another in heaven or in hell after they have died? There would be something to live for, a goal that they would strive to achieve, and without another second of thought, she nodded her head and kissed him with what she had in her. Overcome with happiness, he spun her around, before recollecting himself, and took her by the hand, leading her out of the house, where the others were waiting for them.
Once they were outside, they were greeted by Ujio, who gave Algren a stern look and helped him to adjust the armor he was wearing, and slapped him on the back, a brotherly gesture that transcended cultures. They walked towards Katsumoto, who gave him a katana, made by the sword-smiths in the village, a fine specimen of flawless craftsmanship so common in the makers of the weapons of the samurai. There were characters of the blade of the weapon, which Katsumoto had told him that meant, "I belong to the warrior in whom the old ways have joined the new."
The moment was complete, and once they had all posed for a few final photographs, taken by Graham, Katsumoto shouted a great battle-cry in which all of them responded atop their horses. Within minutes, they charged towards the gates of the village, towards the plain amongst the mountains, and towards certain death. It would be their last stand, and it would mark the glorious end of an old age, and the beginning of a new one, of which the younger generations would embrace that the customs of old, and learn the ways of the new.