Chasing the Wind
Chapter 11
Spring, 1235 - Shiro Sano Kakita
“There is not much more to tell, sensei,” Harun told Kenshin. “I rode as fast as I could back, I made up time. Hoping to at least make the final day of the Topaz Championship. But I didn’t, and here I am.”
“Indeed you are,” said Kenshin. He poured more tea for them both, emptying the pot. “From what you have told me, Harun, you found a lot of things out there. Friendship, duty, the past…but which of these was for you?”
“Duty, sensei,” Harun answered promptly. “When I was out there on the steppes of the plains of the Unicorn, part of me did belong there. But that’s not all who I am. I had to return, all that I am, the lessons I have learned were here, and it was my duty to return and serve those who had helped and taught me.”
Kenshin nodded with approval. “And then?”
“Well, I guess there is the Emerald Legion after this,” Harun said. “Perhaps that is what im meant to do, my dharma. It was, after all, the shryo of my father who told me.”
Kenshin nodded again. What awaited harun next, he could only guess. All he knew was that what ever destiny Harun had, it would not be ordinary.
That night Harun slept deeply, and later than he ever had as an academy student. He roused himself quickly, his muscles aching from the hard riding he had been doing. There was only one remedy for that he knew. Practice first, and then a hot bath. So he dressed and set off for the dojo.
It was a little strange going back in to the dojo. So familiar, but he also felt a little removed from the place. He was no longer a student, but a guest. A visiting Kakita duellist like the ones he had seen growing up in the place.
He went to the part of the doji that was usually reserved for guests, walking past a class of senior students being taught by sensei Kenshin. Among them he could see Arahime’s brother Masarugi and Prince Iweko Kiseki. Both of them would be making their gempukku next spring.
As always, Harun found training in the dojo familiar and comforting. But here, in the Kakita academy, it was even more. Here he was surrounded by memories. And through them all, he saw Arahime. Arahime who was on a ship heading south to a warm, foreign land.
The hour struck, a soft bell sounding indicating the end of classes. Harun paid it no mind, finishing one kata before going into another. When he was done he felt at peace, light and free like a soft wind rippling the grass on the steppes.
Then he looked around and saw he wasn’t alone. The class had finished, and many of the students had gathered around to watch him. They bowed, the acknowledgement of a student to a full samurai. Harun acknowledged their bow with one of his own. But there was an air of formality, and a little awkwardness. He didn’t like it much.
But that only lasted a moment, then the circle around Harun broke up and everyone started talking. Some left, some started asking Harun questions about his travels. He tried to answer them all. Yes, he had fought in the battle at Shiro Moto. No, he hadn’t killed any Dark Moto. And no, the Unicorn did not eat raw meat and he certainly hadn’t had any.
Harun was talking with Masarugi and Kiseki about the Topaz Championship. Specifically, about Arahime’s duels, trying to get as much details as he could. They were still talking when Kenshin approached.
The boys acknowledged the sensei with a bow, then leaving Harun alone with him.
Kenshin gave Harun and nod and then stepped back. Harun knew what this was. He formally bowed to Kenshin, and began to demonstrate how he had improved in his year away from the academy. First, his basic katas and stances, then his iaijutsu draw, and finally some kenjutsu strikes against some rolled tatami mats.
Kenshin watched all this silently, his face an imperceptible mask. When Harun was done, Kenshin gave a nod of approval. So small, but with so much to a student. Harun’s heart soared when he saw that. But he kept calm and waited to see what happened next.
Another rolled tatami mat was brought.
“Two cuts,” Kenshin said.
Harun bowed. He then reached out to touch the rolled tatami mat with the tip of his sword, measuring the length. Then he struck, cutting the mat in two in the middle, his blade arcing upwards in a diagonal cut, the severed piece going up with the momentum of his sword. He cut the severed half in two, bringing his sword down to slice the falling half. And then, because he could, he cut one of the halves in two again.
Kenshin had asked for two cuts, Harun had given him three.
Kenshin smiled.
Later that same day, Harun went to the academy’s ancestral shrine. As he had when he had still been a student, Harun repeated the prayers he had been taught. Humbling asking the ancestors to guide him and to inspire him to act honourable and be worthy of their guidance.
But somehow it was more real now, after seeing the shryo walk out of Yomi. After seeing his father.
When he left the shrine he went back to his room, packing up his things so he could leave in the morning at first light. Something fell out of his bag, he picked it up. It was a little figurine of a horse at full gallop, carefully carved from white wood.
Asuna…
“Harun?”
He turned to see his little sister Sakimi standing in the doorway. He his the little horse inside his sleeve.
“Are you leaving tomorrow?” she asked. “Going so soon?”
“Yes, Sakimi-chan,” said Harun. “I’m heading home, father should be there.”
“And, you’ll ride out with him?” Sakimi asked cautiously. “To the war?”
Harun nodded. Sakimi wrapped her arms around Harun’s legs. Harun squatted down so they were eye to eye.
“You’ll come and see me?” Sakimi asked.
“I’ll try,” Harun promised.
“You’ll stay safe?” she pleaded. “You’ll come back?”
“I’ll do my best,” he promised.
She smiled. He reached into his sleeve and pulled out the horse. He put it in her hand.
“A shiotome gave me this,” he told her. “Keep it safe.”
The next morning, Harun rode out of the gates of Shiro sano Kakita. The sun was warm, the air was clear, the wind was fresh with the promise of spring.
He looked to the south, where Arahime had gone. When would she return? Would she return? He didn’t know. All he had to do was follow the path laid before he him.
He rode south. The road to Otosan Uchi. The road to Shiro Yogashi. The road home.
Chapter 11
Spring, 1235 - Shiro Sano Kakita
“There is not much more to tell, sensei,” Harun told Kenshin. “I rode as fast as I could back, I made up time. Hoping to at least make the final day of the Topaz Championship. But I didn’t, and here I am.”
“Indeed you are,” said Kenshin. He poured more tea for them both, emptying the pot. “From what you have told me, Harun, you found a lot of things out there. Friendship, duty, the past…but which of these was for you?”
“Duty, sensei,” Harun answered promptly. “When I was out there on the steppes of the plains of the Unicorn, part of me did belong there. But that’s not all who I am. I had to return, all that I am, the lessons I have learned were here, and it was my duty to return and serve those who had helped and taught me.”
Kenshin nodded with approval. “And then?”
“Well, I guess there is the Emerald Legion after this,” Harun said. “Perhaps that is what im meant to do, my dharma. It was, after all, the shryo of my father who told me.”
Kenshin nodded again. What awaited harun next, he could only guess. All he knew was that what ever destiny Harun had, it would not be ordinary.
That night Harun slept deeply, and later than he ever had as an academy student. He roused himself quickly, his muscles aching from the hard riding he had been doing. There was only one remedy for that he knew. Practice first, and then a hot bath. So he dressed and set off for the dojo.
It was a little strange going back in to the dojo. So familiar, but he also felt a little removed from the place. He was no longer a student, but a guest. A visiting Kakita duellist like the ones he had seen growing up in the place.
He went to the part of the doji that was usually reserved for guests, walking past a class of senior students being taught by sensei Kenshin. Among them he could see Arahime’s brother Masarugi and Prince Iweko Kiseki. Both of them would be making their gempukku next spring.
As always, Harun found training in the dojo familiar and comforting. But here, in the Kakita academy, it was even more. Here he was surrounded by memories. And through them all, he saw Arahime. Arahime who was on a ship heading south to a warm, foreign land.
The hour struck, a soft bell sounding indicating the end of classes. Harun paid it no mind, finishing one kata before going into another. When he was done he felt at peace, light and free like a soft wind rippling the grass on the steppes.
Then he looked around and saw he wasn’t alone. The class had finished, and many of the students had gathered around to watch him. They bowed, the acknowledgement of a student to a full samurai. Harun acknowledged their bow with one of his own. But there was an air of formality, and a little awkwardness. He didn’t like it much.
But that only lasted a moment, then the circle around Harun broke up and everyone started talking. Some left, some started asking Harun questions about his travels. He tried to answer them all. Yes, he had fought in the battle at Shiro Moto. No, he hadn’t killed any Dark Moto. And no, the Unicorn did not eat raw meat and he certainly hadn’t had any.
Harun was talking with Masarugi and Kiseki about the Topaz Championship. Specifically, about Arahime’s duels, trying to get as much details as he could. They were still talking when Kenshin approached.
The boys acknowledged the sensei with a bow, then leaving Harun alone with him.
Kenshin gave Harun and nod and then stepped back. Harun knew what this was. He formally bowed to Kenshin, and began to demonstrate how he had improved in his year away from the academy. First, his basic katas and stances, then his iaijutsu draw, and finally some kenjutsu strikes against some rolled tatami mats.
Kenshin watched all this silently, his face an imperceptible mask. When Harun was done, Kenshin gave a nod of approval. So small, but with so much to a student. Harun’s heart soared when he saw that. But he kept calm and waited to see what happened next.
Another rolled tatami mat was brought.
“Two cuts,” Kenshin said.
Harun bowed. He then reached out to touch the rolled tatami mat with the tip of his sword, measuring the length. Then he struck, cutting the mat in two in the middle, his blade arcing upwards in a diagonal cut, the severed piece going up with the momentum of his sword. He cut the severed half in two, bringing his sword down to slice the falling half. And then, because he could, he cut one of the halves in two again.
Kenshin had asked for two cuts, Harun had given him three.
Kenshin smiled.
Later that same day, Harun went to the academy’s ancestral shrine. As he had when he had still been a student, Harun repeated the prayers he had been taught. Humbling asking the ancestors to guide him and to inspire him to act honourable and be worthy of their guidance.
But somehow it was more real now, after seeing the shryo walk out of Yomi. After seeing his father.
When he left the shrine he went back to his room, packing up his things so he could leave in the morning at first light. Something fell out of his bag, he picked it up. It was a little figurine of a horse at full gallop, carefully carved from white wood.
Asuna…
“Harun?”
He turned to see his little sister Sakimi standing in the doorway. He his the little horse inside his sleeve.
“Are you leaving tomorrow?” she asked. “Going so soon?”
“Yes, Sakimi-chan,” said Harun. “I’m heading home, father should be there.”
“And, you’ll ride out with him?” Sakimi asked cautiously. “To the war?”
Harun nodded. Sakimi wrapped her arms around Harun’s legs. Harun squatted down so they were eye to eye.
“You’ll come and see me?” Sakimi asked.
“I’ll try,” Harun promised.
“You’ll stay safe?” she pleaded. “You’ll come back?”
“I’ll do my best,” he promised.
She smiled. He reached into his sleeve and pulled out the horse. He put it in her hand.
“A shiotome gave me this,” he told her. “Keep it safe.”
The next morning, Harun rode out of the gates of Shiro sano Kakita. The sun was warm, the air was clear, the wind was fresh with the promise of spring.
He looked to the south, where Arahime had gone. When would she return? Would she return? He didn’t know. All he had to do was follow the path laid before he him.
He rode south. The road to Otosan Uchi. The road to Shiro Yogashi. The road home.
