It was midday in the afternoon when they left the hotel room to continue exploring Kyoto. Reimu was visibly more cheerful and energetic as if a giant weight had been taken off her shoulders. Ryusei watched her intently and even went out of his way to find a nearby sweet shop for them to eat at.
The combined effects of sugary treats and newfound energy gave Reimu a boost that Ryusei had never seen until now. Like a little kid at an amusement park, she hurried from place to place asking him about various foods, items, and places.
"What's this?"
"That's ice cream. It's a common dessert out here in the outside world."
"How about this?"
"That's a laptop. Most people in the outside world use that to work, talk, and find information on things they don't know about."
"What about this?"
"That's an arcade. People come here to play games for prizes and hang out with friends."
As they entered the marketplace, Reimu's excitement began hitting peak levels while Ryusei made a mental note to limit the amount of sugar he got for Reimu.
"You can buy watermelons everywhere?!" asked Reimu.
"Uhh, yes?"
"Look at those ingredients! They're so cheap!" exclaimed the miko. "And what's with those numbers?"
"That's the expiration date and it's 5 days from now," informed Ryusei
"What are those metal moving things? Looks like kappa stuff..."
"You mean cars? It's a method of transportation. Faster than a horse but more expensive than one as well."
"And that?"
"That's a judo training center. People come here to…"
Reimu looked at Ryusei who had stopped talking and trailed off. He was visibly uncomfortable with the topic.
"Uh, Ryusei?" asked Reimu.
The samurai didn't respond and instead watched as the judo instructor went around watching the kids do several moves and helping those that were struggling. The man's actions were gentle and kind while the children acknowledged each other as respectable fighters. As they continued, Ryusei recalled his own training and relationships.
"You are no samurai! What kind of samurai are you? He gets hurt that easily? He doesn't belong here. Where's Ryusei during the Seppuku festival? You're not worthy of the samurai title! We don't want you to be a samurai. Your brother will be one instead. Now stop going to those lessons and get ready to meet her!"
"Ryusei!"
The samurai's thoughts were interrupted by Reimu's voice. He jolted upwards upon feeling her hand.
"Are you okay? You've been staring at those guys as if you had a past history with them for quite a while now."
Ryusei snapped out of his recollection and shook his head.
"No. Everything is fine. I just remembered something."
The samurai tried to brush the topic off but Reimu persisted.
"What happened? You don't usually black out like this. Does it have to do with the tournament?"
The word rang a bell as he sat down at a nearby table with him resting his head on one of his hands.
"Yes. Partially," admitted Ryusei.
Reimu joined him from across the table and put her hand on one of his.
"Do you want to tell me about it? It's fine if you don't want to talk about it."
"No it's just. Ah…"
Ryusei trailed off again before he answered.
"I think it's time for you to know. You've been with me for a long time now and trusted me with something important to you. You deserve to know it."
Reimu watched as he paused for a moment before he brought out his black and red jiu jitsu gi and laid it on the table.
"It started when I was six. In my home, everyone had the option to become a samurai warrior. Not just the elite or the lucky guys who got lessons. In my world, becoming a samurai wasn't a job. It was a responsibility that all boys were allowed to take up along with their actual jobs of a farmer, merchant, fisher, or hunter. This way, if a battle or war broke out, the samurai and the civilians would be able to survive without needing to rely on the other person to feed or protect them. The decision on whether or not you'll be a samurai is made the moment you turn six by either yourself or your parents."
He paused for a moment and clenched his fist but released it upon feeling Reimu's touch and her concern.
"I wanted nothing more than to follow in my parents' footsteps, but they refused. My teachers saw potential in me, a burning determination, but my parents... they wanted my younger brother to take up the mantle. They saw me as the firstborn, destined for a different path."
Reimu felt a surge of sympathy for him. Rejection from his own parents must have been a deep wound.
"In the end though, I was the one who had to make that decision and I chose to become a samurai. My parents didn't take this lightly and did all they could to stop me from achieving my goals. Their closest attempt was when they refused to give me or let me obtain something known as the blood of the samurai."
"Blood of the samurai? What's that?" asked Reimu.
"It's a special liquid that every young samurai trainee gets when they turn 12 that enhances their stamina and recovery time. The moment they take this liquid, they are given regenerative abilities that allow them to heal much faster than normal and regrow lost limbs or body parts in a manner of seconds. It also gives them the ability to revive themselves and restore their bodies once a month by performing seppuku. They also get unlimited stamina and lose the need for food and water to survive. Most samurai came from families who passed it down, a blood donation from parent to child. Nowadays, even our instructors are allowed to do this but back in my time, this wasn't allowed," explained Ryusei.
"A powerful liquid," Reimu murmured, intrigued.
"Indeed. But my parents wouldn't give it to me. They didn't want me on that path. Without it, the training was brutal. Other students had this miraculous healing, and I… I was left battered and bruised, constantly struggling to keep up."
"That's awful!" Reimu exclaimed. "But how did you manage?"
"It wasn't easy," Ryusei admitted, a shadow of sadness returning. "Finally, a spot opened up at the Christian Church Ryu after someone dropped out. The teachers were hesitant but took me in because of my faith as a christian and my own abilities."
A flicker of anger crossed Ryusei's face. "But the students… they mocked me. 'Bloodless Samurai,' they called me. And the instructors… they questioned if I belonged. No friends, no participation in the samurai traditions… I was an outsider even among those who shared my dream."
He picked up his gi, the red lining stark against his hand. "But I preserved. I trained harder and stayed up late practicing techniques until I mastered them. With my teachers' approval, I learned to use, create, and fight with backup swords that I installed in the arms of my armor. I even tried looking for substitutes that could possibly replace that liquid without having a negative effect on my body. Soon, I was able to fight on the same level and surpass many of my classmates in combat and match my own teachers."
He sighed as he put down the gi. "This didn't stop the bullying though. The worst came in the form of three students who came from the Buddhist Ryu. Unlike my classmates who only mocked me, they looked for ways to undermine me and anyone they thought shouldn't be a samurai. The worst of it came in our first tournament when I was 12 and a half years old. We were all invited to join the grandmaster in watching two recent official samurai graduates duel each other in a tournament match. The three bullies deemed one of them unfit to be a samurai by their standards and drugged his food on the night before the match began."
He paused and watched as Reimu listened intently.
"By luck, I was the one who found him sick in bed and unfit to fight right before the match started. With his permission I took his place and borrowed his armor to prevent others from learning about our switch and keep his state a secret. The bullies from the Buddhist Ryu found out and secretly planned to expose this switch."
Ryusei paused for a moment to reflect before continuing.
"They waited until they saw that my opponent was losing before they intervened by joining the fight. Within seconds, a show simply meant for entertainment was turned into a fight for my own life as I did my best to hold them off without causing severe injuries to them. The crowd was impressed and I thought that I would be able to prove myself and finally be accepted among my peers. But then, one of them managed to knock my helmet off, exposing my identity to the crowd and my opponent. They didn't stop there though. They mocked me and struck me down to my knees. My opponent was enraged and joined them in bringing the pain. It was then, I stopped holding back and allowed them to truly see and know who they were messing with. I disarmed and disabled my opponent while the three bullies were hurt so badly, they would've died if the grandmaster didn't intervene."
Anger and sadness continued to burn in Ryusei's eyes and face as he continued his tale.
"Once they learned of what had happened, the grandmaster dishonored me. He had me banned from all future tournaments and had me expelled from the Ryu that was teaching me. In comparison, he praised the three bullies for doing what they thought was right, exposing the fake, and gave them recommendations to be trained by the top masters of their Ryu."
"That's terrible!" exclaimed Reimu. "How would you continue your training then?"
"I got lucky. Usually after a tournament, several students would be selected by a group of samurai masters that would become their mentors and lifelong teachers. Typically they each choose one student that was 14 years old but one of them didn't and instead chose me. His name is Master Cross and he had been impressed by the fight I put up in the tournament and thought I did the right thing. He went through many hoops just to get me as his student and it was thanks to him that they allowed me to stay in school for another month or two instead of outright expelling me. During this time, all of us were given jiu jitsu gis as an indicator and reflection of our skill and status."
Ryusei picked up his gi and handed it to Reimu who examined the martial art clothes.
"What does the color mean?" asked the shrine maiden.
Ryusei pointed at the black part of his gi before answering. "This part indicates our skill. White means untrained. Gray means still improving and black means highly trained."
He then pointed at the red part. "This part indicates our status and the color will vary depending on what the teachers think but they will never use red unless it is for a special circumstance. Whereas everyone received a white non-red gi, I was given a white and red one so everyone would know that I was dishonored and officially, no longer part of this Ryu and thus, could no longer pass as a samurai."
"That's outrageous!" Reimu exclaimed, her sense of justice piqued. "How could they do that?"
Ryusei smiled faintly. "Back then, our teachers followed traditions and rules that were unfair simply because of the current grandmaster. Nowadays, things have changed and every teacher has their own set of rules and methods. As for Master Cross, he managed to persuade them to let me become his student and I ended up becoming the youngest samurai to receive a mentorship. He was the one who taught me everything I know and ultimately allowed me to continue my goals. He found a replacement liquid called energon that replicated many of the samurai blood's capabilities and gave it to me. With it, I was able to learn at the same rate of the students back at the Ryu and use more powerful weapons like these energon blades."
Upon mentioning this, Ryusei put down his gi and put on one of his armor's arm parts and procured a sword that had a glowing orange blade.
"Even so, he wasn't able to solve my exclusion issue. The energon liquid only enhanced my healing abilities and removed my need for food and water. I still couldn't join everyone in most celebrations and festivals like the Seppuku festival. I also couldn't join any tournaments and was the only person to miss out on these events. Sometimes just hearing or seeing one is enough to remind me of those bad times."
He clenched his fist again but let go upon feeling Reimu's comforting hand again.
"Ryusei. You had a really rough childhood and training. Being excluded and restricted because of elements beyond your control and being banned from attending the most important events in your life is a lot," commented Reimu.
"But you don't need to let them hold you back. You're not the same person you were all those years ago. You're something much more than that. All those past mistakes aren't weights of the past but a reminder of how far you've come now. If anything, now is the time for you to stop holding yourself back and show not just me but everyone present how far you've come and why you're a samurai. Fight in that tournament not as the student but yourself, the samurai adventurer. It doesn't matter whether you win or lose. All that matters is that you've truly freed yourself and are no longer bound by the same chains that those people put you in."
Hearing this, Ryusei looked at Reimu's eyes. Gone were the eyes of worry and now, a look of determination was written on her face. She was right. The past didn't matter anymore. He was free and no longer bound by his past mistakes. With a determined look, Ryusei got up and smiled at Reimu.
"Thank you. In any case, let's prepare for that tournament tonight."
With that, the two got up and headed back to their hotel room to get their gear and join the festivities.