He was breathing heavily and leaning all the weight of his small body on the sabakatou he was looking for a place where he could feel safe and secure. But Tokyo was anything but a safe place and even less so for a samurai. The streets were empty and as he crawled along the rough sidewalks his mind began to wander, his eyes were already beginning to weigh him down and his vision blurred noticeably, he was losing too much blood, he slipped one of his hands through his clothes, feeling the severity of his wounds and before the faint reddish tinge of the sky disappeared, before the sun was swallowed by the blanket of darkness of the night, he saw his hand become engulfed in blood. ...he kept moving forward, determined to find a place to drop down... and rest.
By the time he realized it, he was already in a rural street, surrounded by plum trees and at the foot of these, he crossed a river, he continued advancing and with each faint step his life began to escape him through the open wounds left by the tears of his clothes mixed with the blood and dirt.
In front of him appeared a boy no younger than 12 years old who looked at him astonished, he stretched out his hand wrapped in blood towards him, he tried to ask for help, but no sound escaped his lips, his whole body was in shock, he could not speak, the little boy disappeared, while he fell into a kind of momentary lapse of unconsciousness.
By the time he opened his eyes again, it was dark, only the faint moonlight accompanied him, leaning against the trunk of one of the plum trees, near the river he saw his reflection in the turbulent water, there was the dying assassin, his scarlet red hair tied in a high ponytail, his white hakama dulled by the dirt, and the yukata opened and scraped by the successive cuts of an enemy sword, gave note of the magnitude of his battle and the extent of his wounds. A large crimson stain spread across his chest until it stained his hakama almost completely, he placed his free hand on his waist, trying to stop the bleeding, but even the weight of his hand on his own body hurt him, he suddenly arched forward and covering his mouth with his hand coughed and fell.
Writhing on the ground in pain, he looked at his bloody stained hand, his wounds were already serious enough to cost him his life. He leaned back again against the tree, he closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again he felt a little nauseous, he could not see well, he got up from the ground leaning on the sword and that boy appeared again in front of him, astonished, but he was not alone, he looked up and in front of him a tall man with a hard and serious face was looking at him, even a little angry, he was looking at him with his arms crossed, he was dressed in white, but his clothes were totally different from his, he was not wearing a hakama, nor a yukata, surely he was not a samurai, he was wearing pants without pleats, his yukata was open exposing his chest and a bandage from his chest to his waist, and on his forehead a red ribbon, he stretched his hand towards them, and immediately fell to the ground, but this tall man with an almost indifferent expression stopped his fall taking him in his arms. ...
He saw himself fall into a deep ocean, letting himself be carried by the swaying of the waves, letting the salt water cleanse his wounds, and perhaps also his sins, there were no more cries of pain, no more pleas, no more blood scattered everywhere, there was no rancor or revenge, no love or desire, only the realization of a dream he had had many years ago: death.
"At last, here will I be able to rest?"
He asked himself, as he continued to fall in this spiral to the bottom of his mental ocean, and the sound of a drop of water falling woke him up, bringing him out of his delirium, bringing him back to reality and he was no longer dead.
He opened his eyes to find himself in a large room, empty but for his presence, he observed everything in detail, took a deep breath, a smell of jasmine invaded his space, and he found it a pleasant, soothing smell...if not also for the smell of blood that attacked his senses.
He tried to sit up, but a stabbing pain in his abdomen kept him on the futon, he felt his abdomen, rubbing his fingers against a properly made bandage, surely he was in some hospital, it was then that he realized the absence of his sword, he did not care about the pain, nor that his wounds were opened again, he had to find the sakabatou. He opened the shoji with a brutal force, while his wounds opened staining his bandage, his hair tied in a high ponytail came out of the bun and fell on his shoulders while other locks fell on his forehead, covering his eyes. And wrapped in despair he turned his gaze towards a large hallway and his golden eyes injected with anger suddenly met with large, round, deep blue eyes that looked at him in surprise, his expression changed completely, his features relaxed and asking her about his sword, he leaned against the wall again feeling a little dizzy, the girl approached and surrounding him by the waist took him back to the room. When she had laid him down, she went for more bandages and medicine, sat down beside him and with a gentle smile asked him to sit up a little to remove the stained bandages...
He did so in total silence, he lay down again, while she closed the wounds again, disinfected them properly and taking a roll of bandages asked him to get up again, so he did it again, then he felt that scent of jasmine, she was the one who gave off that sweet and soothing aroma, he looked at her somewhat surprised and stunned, as if hypnotized by her and examined her carefully.
She was small and slender, her hair long, caught in a high ponytail, all of her features were delicate, her nose, her lips finely drawn and tinged with the color of spring plum trees, pink, fragrant... Under her eyes appeared noticeably faint purple marks, dark circles under her eyes. her blue, expressive, deep-set eyes gave her whole figure an elegant bearing ... All that sweetly accompanied by the kindness she showed in her care for him, and the sympathy and confidence she portrayed with a sweet smile...
But she had no idea who he was, Perhaps that innocent smile would vanish as quickly as it appeared if she knew what he was, what he had done...
The girl was no younger than 18, she looked at him and asked him if he was hungry, he nodded his head somewhat embarrassed by his weakness, she smiled and quickly put away the implements disappearing behind the shoji.
By the time the young woman returned with the food, he had fallen sound asleep, she put the things aside and went over to tuck him in and watched him for a moment, wondering what kind of person he would be, to hurt himself so badly. She was certain that he was a samurai when Sanosuke took him to the dojo, he had two swords in his hakama, one with a reverse edge and the other that had never been taken out of its sheath, and his hair was in a high ponytail, showing that until then he was still an active samurai.
What was a samurai of his rank doing in such conditions? wondered ...