Takeshi still felt the residue from tears on his cheeks as he cupped his tea to warm his frostbitten hands. Tamura gladly invited the old man into their home, grateful for his intervention to protect her only child. The old man explained the scene in detail and also told them his name, Kazuo Takahashi. He comforted them both, ensuring them that he did not need payment for his services despite Tamura's many attempts. Takeshi marveled at what he saw Takahashi do, to take a large man such as the one he saw and instantly render him defenseless was something he never thought imaginable.
"Mr. Takahashi, how did you get so strong? You were amazing," Takeshi asked in a still quivering voice.
The old man laughed, as he sat in a reminiscent stupor for a few seconds.
"Young man, that story is a long one. I thank you for your praise, I'm getting slow in my old age but I can still teach someone a lesson now and then," he said with a slightly sad smile. "Now I must ask you, how did you become so kind, my boy? Even in the face of such harsh insults to your character, you were able to speak so kindly to that man."
Suddenly looking right into Takahashi's bright eyes, Takeshi noticed the deep scar across his face that rendered his left eye grayed with blindness.
"I guess… I felt sadness in him, his face was sad. Even though he was angry, I knew it wasn't my fault, he was really really sad," Takeshi said in thought.
"My boy is strong," Tamura said proudly. "Though ordinary people may see weakness in his gentle spirit and bright eyes, he is going to change the world one day. I just know it. I don't know how I got so lucky to be your mother, Takeshi," she said while caressing his short dirty blond hair.
"We're gonna weave you a new temari, how does that sound? I know it's not your birthday but we'll make it work okay?"
"I think I have something you might like to see," the old man smirked as he reached into his travel bag.
Takeshi's eyes grew wide as he produced a small spinning top, and with a flash, he spun it right over to him as the colors flashed brilliantly. He grabbed the top earnestly, looking at the careful inscriptions and markings. Along the top was a painting of a serpent, coiled in a circle while biting its own tail. Takeshi couldn't help but laugh at the picture, he loved to laugh, and things as peculiar as this nearly always got him.
"The snake is biting itself, why is it doing that? Doesn't it hurt?" He asked as the smile returned to the corners of his face.
"That serpent," Takeshi said, "is not just any serpent my boy, it's called Ouroboros, and it's known by many as the world serpent. It bites its own tail and regenerates it simultaneously, keeping balance in the cycle and ushering in the new."
"But why doesn't he just stop? Couldn't he just be a regular snake?" Takeshi thought carefully.
"He could, I suppose," the old man laughed, "but then there would be no balance. You see, life is not all about pleasantries and gentle living. To truly grow, and become stronger, you must embrace the dark times because you know that they always lead you to brighter times. Just like Ouroboros knows that when he is upside down if he follows his path through the pain, he will always end back upright."
Takeshi's eyes twinkled at the old man, he loves fables and stories, and he often daydreams of fantasy worlds where he befriends all the creatures he can come up with.
"Thank you, Kazuo, I don't know how we deserved your aid but I will forever be indebted to you for protecting my son," Tamura said sincerely. "It's getting dark out, wouldn't you mind staying here for the night? It's the least we can do and we have plenty of room and warmth here. Besides, we wouldn't want you to stumble upon a demon right?" She said playfully.
Takhashi's face suddenly turned grim, losing a bit of color in his already pale visage.
"Demons… are no laughing matter I'm afraid," he said softly, "believe me, I wish they were fictional enough to joke about. But let that not ruin the mood, I accept your offer and thank you graciously for your hospitality."
Scared of offending him further, but still confused, Tamura nodded and filled everyone's cups with more tea, the steam rising into the air, swirling like a serpent, dissipating into nothingness.
Takeshi lies close to his mother, tucked into sleep like he always has been, with the reading of a letter from his father, and a kiss on his forehead. Takeshi found himself far from sleep, much more opposed to the exhausted breathing from his mother right next to him. A question burned in his chest, one he had never considered. He slipped from his sheet and stood up quietly, making his way to the front of the hut where Kazuo had decided to sleep. He rounded the corner, careful to push the sliding door in a way to make little noise. Expecting to have to wake the old man, Takeshi was surprised to see him sitting upright, eyes closed and still as a board. He felt like turning back but was equally intrigued to know what he was doing this late. He took a step further, creeping like the field mice in the stories his mother would tell him as a child. Before he could take another, however, the old man gestured to him to sit beside him, eyes still closed. Takeshi froze, not sure how it was possible that he could have sensed him, he made no noise he was sure of it.
"Don't be shy, young one, I knew you'd be in here sooner or later," Kazuo said with his eyes still closed.
Without saying a word, Takeshi copied the old man's stance and sat next to him. He wondered if he could hear his attempt to match the rhythmic breathing Kazuo was employing.
"You have a question, I am sure of it, you are not whole," the man said confidently, "you will be whole when you have an answer so do not delay."
Takeshi was once again taken aback, but he decided not to wait any longer.
"I just wanted to ask… because you are so strong, sir… do you think that I am… weak? That man, I know you said he wasn't important, but I feel so vulnerable now like I am exposed," Takeshi said, somewhat defeatedly.
A smile passed across Kazuo's face.
"My boy, a weak man, would have spat in that stranger's face and thrown every insult in the book at him," he said half laughing, "Your mother is smart, give her some credit. She knows and I know that you are strong. Deep down you need to discover and believe that, then the sky's the limit."
"But do not be mistaken, there will be obstacles in life, and an old man with a judo throw will not always be around to save you," he said with a playful but serious tone, "this world will take everything from you if you let it, but you have to be strong enough to get up every day and fight for what's yours, you must become like Ouroboros."
"But I don't want to fight, I like how I live. I want to live with my family in Jiaojiang forever!" Takeshi exclaimed defensively.
The old man opened his eyes and looked gently at Takeshi, his wrinkled and hollow face reflecting a sense of regret and sorrow in his look.
"I want nothing more than for that to come true for you," he said softly, "but there is evil in this world that will try to rip that dream from you time and time again, and they will succeed if you do not know how to fight back."
The man suddenly stood up, quicker than his years should allow. He reached to his waist and drew the katana that Takeshi had noticed in the town square. He watched as the blade glided from the scabbard, the bright red metal glistening in the soft lantern light.
"You must be a flame, in a world trying to snuff you out," Kazuo said quietly but triumphantly, "burn brighter than those who oppose you, and cleanse yourself of doubt and weakness."
His blade suddenly ignited into a blaze, flowing seamlessly around the swordsman as he brandished it beautifully.
"Set your heart ablaze and burn brighter than you ever thought possible, light the way for others, that is what you must learn young one," he said as he closed his eyes and returned the blade swiftly to his waist.
Takeshi watched in awe, still sitting with his eyes wide open even seconds after the blade had been sheathed. He wanted to be strong like Master Takahashi, whatever it took. He suddenly felt a rush of energy as sheer determination filled his veins. He had lived a very quiet and sheltered life, his childlike wonder never diminishing well into his teenage years. But now, as a 15-year-old boy, he felt as though he could burst into flames himself from sheer excitement and pride.
"You have to teach me!" he said a little too loudly considering the time, "I want to be strong! I want to be a flame!"
The old man's face lit up, smiling deeply as he rustled the boy's hair.
"Being a swordsman is not the path for everyone, Takeshi, you often lose more than you gain," he said brightly, "but I can certainly teach you the basics, it can only help you on your path to your destiny."
"Let's start right now!" Takeshi said, jumping to his feet. "I'm ready to make flames and set my heart on fire!"
"Right now, all you need is to rest young one," the old man said, placing a hand on Takeshi's back. "Flames must dwindle before they burn brightest, and you must rest to burn bright in the future."
Now that he mentioned it, Takeshi was feeling rather heavy with fatigue. It had been one of the most eventful days of his life, adrenaline was taking its toll. So in the end he decided that he must dwindle for the time being, slipping back under the sheet next to his mother. Tamura stirred and turned towards Takeshi.
"Is everything alright Takeshi? Another nightmare?" She inquired quietly.
"No Mother," he said triumphantly, "I'm gonna burn so bright that nightmares will never touch me! Mr. Takahashi said so!"
"Right… ok dear, how about we rest now and start fires tomorrow okay?" Tamura said in a confused tone as she kissed Takeshi on the cheek and turned back over into sleep.
Takeshi closed his eyes, dreaming of a top spinning faster than wind, ablaze with flames as bright as the sun, a serpent spinning in a dance across the sky, a smile crossed his face.