Bayushi’s Thunder
The Children stood in absolute silence, dumbfounded by Shinsei’s announcement. One by one, they nodded to the little master. Finally, their eyes fell to Bayushi, and the Scorpion shook his head.
“No,” he said.
Shinsei stepped closer. “There is no other way,” he said.
Bayushi’s hands clenched, his eyes pleading, “I have lost enough of my children, brother.”
Doji stepped forward. “We have all lost children, my brother. You are not alone in your pain.”
Bayushi turned to face her and the man beside her let his own hand fall to his katana. Bayushi nodded toward him. “Will you send your husband then, sister Doji?” He spun about, turning to Akodo. “And who will you send? Perhaps the beautiful Matsu should be sent to meet our brother, eh?”
Akodo’s eyes never faltered. “If it will save the Empire…she will go without question.”
Bayushi turned again back to Shinsei, his body trembling with anger. “No. There must be another way!”
The little master shook his head. “No. There is no other way.”
Bayushi stood silent in the midst of his brothers and sisters. Their eyes fixed on him. Some were amazed. Some were confused. Two were filled with hatred.”
It has been said the Day of Thunder was Shinsei's last lesson to the Children of the Moon, a lesson of humility and loss. Bayushi's refusal to send one of his own is one of the greatest stories of Rokugan. Countless plays and books have been written about the incident. Speculation about Bayushi's refusal has had one thousand years to develop. But to this day, the true reasons are unknown. What is known is that, the next morning, despite his objections, and despite his orders to the contrary, Shosuro rode out with Shinsei to meet Fu Leng. She was the only Thunder to ride out without the approval of her Clan's progenitor.
Shosuro was also the only one to return.
The doors flew open as dozens of guards stood ready to protect the Emperor and his court. Standing in the doorway, a gray smoke oozing from her skin, Shosuro stood shaking, a black bag thrown over her shoulder.
Her mask was torn, but still, little of her face was visible. Her weary eyes scanned the court, and her lips whispered a single name: “Bayushi.”
He stepped forward, his gait hesitant. His lips trembled. When he saw her standing there, surrounded by terrified guards, he ran to her, throwing off hands that would keep him back.
She fell to her knees when she saw him, an exhausted smile finding her lips.
“Don’t touch her!” Shiba called out. “The taint!”
Bayushi did not hesitate. He took the dying Thunder in his arms and pulled her close. They whispered together for a moment, the drama of the moment drowning their words. Then, as the court came closer, their conversation could be heard.
“It doesn’t matter, little one,” Bayushi told her. “It does not matter any more.”
The Thunder shook her head. “I came back…I came back because I needed to tell you…”
He shushed her, but she continued. “I need to tell you…” she whispered again, her words so soft, they were lost to all but the man who held her.
Bayushi nodded. “I understand. And I forgive you.”
Shosuro smiled one last time, then the light left her eyes and her body fell deep into his arms, still and motionless.
Silence filled the hall. The only sound that reached us was the soft, rhythmic sound of Bayushi’s breathing. No one moved.
Then, finally, Bayushi stood, his eyes remaining on the broken body on the floor. He spoke, his eyes never shifting.
“The body must be blessed. Then burned.”
Bayushi paused, catching his breath. Then, he continued. “The bag,” he said. “The bag contains the method they used to bind our brother. She promised Shinsei she would bring it back to us.”
Hantei nodded. “Then she was successful.”
“They must be guarded,” Bayushi said. “The duty belongs to me.”
Hantei nodded again. “I have no argument with that.”
Bayushi turned back to the bag. He lifted it into his hands and turned to his followers. “Come my children,” he said. “We have much to do.”
“No,” he said.
Shinsei stepped closer. “There is no other way,” he said.
Bayushi’s hands clenched, his eyes pleading, “I have lost enough of my children, brother.”
Doji stepped forward. “We have all lost children, my brother. You are not alone in your pain.”
Bayushi turned to face her and the man beside her let his own hand fall to his katana. Bayushi nodded toward him. “Will you send your husband then, sister Doji?” He spun about, turning to Akodo. “And who will you send? Perhaps the beautiful Matsu should be sent to meet our brother, eh?”
Akodo’s eyes never faltered. “If it will save the Empire…she will go without question.”
Bayushi turned again back to Shinsei, his body trembling with anger. “No. There must be another way!”
The little master shook his head. “No. There is no other way.”
Bayushi stood silent in the midst of his brothers and sisters. Their eyes fixed on him. Some were amazed. Some were confused. Two were filled with hatred.”
- From Kakita Uniko’s ‘Day of Thunder'
It has been said the Day of Thunder was Shinsei's last lesson to the Children of the Moon, a lesson of humility and loss. Bayushi's refusal to send one of his own is one of the greatest stories of Rokugan. Countless plays and books have been written about the incident. Speculation about Bayushi's refusal has had one thousand years to develop. But to this day, the true reasons are unknown. What is known is that, the next morning, despite his objections, and despite his orders to the contrary, Shosuro rode out with Shinsei to meet Fu Leng. She was the only Thunder to ride out without the approval of her Clan's progenitor.
Shosuro was also the only one to return.
The doors flew open as dozens of guards stood ready to protect the Emperor and his court. Standing in the doorway, a gray smoke oozing from her skin, Shosuro stood shaking, a black bag thrown over her shoulder.
Her mask was torn, but still, little of her face was visible. Her weary eyes scanned the court, and her lips whispered a single name: “Bayushi.”
He stepped forward, his gait hesitant. His lips trembled. When he saw her standing there, surrounded by terrified guards, he ran to her, throwing off hands that would keep him back.
She fell to her knees when she saw him, an exhausted smile finding her lips.
“Don’t touch her!” Shiba called out. “The taint!”
Bayushi did not hesitate. He took the dying Thunder in his arms and pulled her close. They whispered together for a moment, the drama of the moment drowning their words. Then, as the court came closer, their conversation could be heard.
“It doesn’t matter, little one,” Bayushi told her. “It does not matter any more.”
The Thunder shook her head. “I came back…I came back because I needed to tell you…”
He shushed her, but she continued. “I need to tell you…” she whispered again, her words so soft, they were lost to all but the man who held her.
Bayushi nodded. “I understand. And I forgive you.”
Shosuro smiled one last time, then the light left her eyes and her body fell deep into his arms, still and motionless.
Silence filled the hall. The only sound that reached us was the soft, rhythmic sound of Bayushi’s breathing. No one moved.
Then, finally, Bayushi stood, his eyes remaining on the broken body on the floor. He spoke, his eyes never shifting.
“The body must be blessed. Then burned.”
Bayushi paused, catching his breath. Then, he continued. “The bag,” he said. “The bag contains the method they used to bind our brother. She promised Shinsei she would bring it back to us.”
Hantei nodded. “Then she was successful.”
“They must be guarded,” Bayushi said. “The duty belongs to me.”
Hantei nodded again. “I have no argument with that.”
Bayushi turned back to the bag. He lifted it into his hands and turned to his followers. “Come my children,” he said. “We have much to do.”
- From Kakita Uniko’s ‘Day of Thunder'
