Chasing the Wind
A Story from the Fall of the Onyx Empire. This is set immediately after the events of School Days.
By Kakita Harun / Utaku Yamada WC5
Chapter 1
Spring, 1235 - Shiro san Kakita
Harun was relieved when the gates of Shiro sano Kakita came in sight. Just on dusk. He was just in time before they closed them for the night. He had been riding hard for three days, stopping only to rest his horse.
The guard, one familiar from Harun’s student days, waved him through when Harun showed his chop. Once inside he quickly secured his horse in the stable and then emerged in the familiar courtyard that separated the dojo from the rest of the castle. Ordered, every stone and flower in it’s perfect place.
It’s like coming home, thought Harun as he crossed it, nothing has changed.
But if nothing had changed here, Harun had certainly changed. He was taller, his skin darker from the time he had spent in the sun, his muscles hard from the riding and fighting in the Unicorn lands. His hair hung long and wild in loose curls around his shoulders, pooling in the hood of his deep purple fur-lined cloak that concealed his armour. He walked with an easy confidence, with purpose, as if he no longer cared who saw him.
But there was still the quietness in his eyes, akin to a deep well. A stillness he drew upon in the duelling ring, silence turned quickly to action.
In the courtyard outside the outside the dojo, the students gathered in small groups playing, practising or talking.
Recreation time, he remembered. He didn’t see Arahime, perhaps she was inside. He had lost track of the days on the road, what with the late snow holding him up.
“Harun!” A blue and white blur ran towards him, then at the last minute stopped and gave an awkward bow. “I’m sorry,” she said, stifling a giggle.
Harun laughed and came forward to embrace his little sister. “Sakimi-chan.” She had come to the academy the year before he had left. With her white hair and blue eyes she fit right in, and she had followed him around like a shadow whenever she could.
She ran her fingers through his long hair. “You look like a real Moto!” She laughed. “Did you see them? Did you see any Shiotome?”
“I saw lots of things, Sakimi-chan,” he said. “Where is Arahime? Is she still here?”
Sakimi hesitated. “She…she has left, Harun. A week ago,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
Harun’s face fell. “But…the championship?”
Sakimi shook her head. “It ended, the day before she left.”
Harun closed his eyes. “I promised her,” he said. He opened them again. “Why didn’t she wait for me?”
“I don’t know,” Sakimi said. “Aunt Kyoumi and Uncle Kousuda had to leave quickly.”
Harun clenched his fists and made a low groan. He would have done more, but remembered in time not only was Sakimi right there they didn’t do things like that in Crane lands.
“I’m sorry,” Sakimi repeated.
One of the sensei walked around ringing a small handbell, summoning the children to the evening meal. Sakimi looked at him then back at Harun.
“Go on,” Harun said. “We can talk more later.”
When Sakimi left, Harun sat down on a bench at the edge of the courtyard, running his hands through his hair. How often he and Arahime had sat there together in their student days. And she had left, without waiting for him, without saying goodbye.
It was of her that he had thought of when he rode home, that had spurred him on. And he hadn’t told her how he felt about her. How much he loved her. How much he cared.
It’s not too late, Harun thought, The gates are closed now, but I can leave at first light and be in Otosan Uchi in a few hours. He brightened at the thought. Wherever she’s going, she can’t have left yet.
A light moving across the courtyard made him look up. It was his old sensei, Kakita Kenshin, the Master Sensei of Kakita Academy. He supported himself with a walking stick with one hand and held a lantern with the other.
“Sensei.” Harun immediately got to his feet and bowed low.
Kenshin looked his former student up and down. “Harun-san, you have come back.” There was the hint of a smile in his careworn face.
“I heard I have missed the tournament,” Harun said, taking the lantern from Kenshin and falling into step beside him. “I did want to see Arahime compete.”
“She did well,” said Kenshin. “She was in the final round against Mirumoto Fumaki who narrowly bested her.”
“Sensei,” Harun said, his words sticking in his throat, “I had hoped to see her before she left.”
Kenshin stopped walking, thinking. “Come to my chambers later, we can speak more.” He signalled to a younger student who was crossing the courtyard going into dinner late. “Sumiko-chan, see that Kakita Harun is installed in the guest quarters.”
The girl bowed to the master sensei and Harun followed him.
Harun changed out of his armour, had a wash and changed into the fresh Crane colours clothes that had been provided for him. Then, after running through a few katas to loosen the muscles that had stiffened from the days riding, he entered Kenshin’s quarters.
How many times had he been summoned here as a student to face discipline? The first time in his first year when he thought we was going to be expelled.
He sat down at the table opposite Kenshin. A young student made and served tea under Kenshin’s watchful eye. This, too, had once been him. Making and serving tea to the Master Sensei’s honoured guests. He remembered how small he had felt, and when the boy bowed before leaving Harun nodded in return and gave her a small smile.
Silently, they sipped the tea. The light, fragrant brew was very different from the heavy, pungent blend that he had had with the Unicorn. A memory flashed before his eyes. Moto Chinua, unceremoniously dumping teapot, cups and a bowl of meat jerky on the table between them. Holding his hands stiffly to hide how they shook.
Kenshin put his cup down. “When I saw you had returned, I knew that there things that I wanted to hear from you. But, I think you have questions first.”
Harun nodded.
Kenshin thought a moment. “Arahime-san and I spoke of you a number of times before he gempukku,” he said. “She told me that she was…concerned. Concerned that you would not return.”
“I promised her, sensei,” said Harun.
“Yes, but you were tempted to stay, were you not?” Kenshin asked. “And more than once, I would say.”
Harun sipped his tea, draining the cup and placing it on the table. “I would be lying if I said I was not, sensei.”
Kenshin nodded. “As I said, she did well in the tournament. Perhaps she could have done better, had her focus had been inward rather than on the perfection of her outward form.”
Harun nodded in return. “Sounds like her,” he said. “But why isn’t she here? Was she mad at me?”
“One has nothing to do with the other,” said Kenshin. “She probably would be here, had she leave to do so, but she did not.” He reached into his haori and gave Harun a folded piece of paper. “She left this for me to give to you. I told her you would return, and I was right.”
Harun smiled, but it fell quickly off his face as he read the letter.
Dear Harun-san,
I am sorry I was not able to stay until you finally arrived. You missed a lovely time at the Topaz Championship. Of course, Mirumoto Fumaki, claimed the prize, but everyone tells me that coming second is very respectable and brings great honour to the family.
Mother tells me that there were several inquiries about marriage prospects already, but it is early days yet. My only regret is that you were not there to cheer me on. It rained during the tsu-fish hunt, but the boys I was teamed up with and I persevered. Remember when we used to go look for them? The chase was exciting, certainly. I am sure that you had many exciting adventures during your days in Unicorn Lands. I wish I could have heard all about them.
Your father was also here, though he had to leave early. There was some trouble with the merchant ships in Otosan Uchi he needed to attend to.
Unfortunately, right after the closing ceremonies, I received my new assignment, directly from Doji Ayamu-sama. The most recent yojimbo for the Crane Ambassador in Second City recently committed seppuku regarding an incident with a Yoritomo courtier. The ambassador, Doji Mushari, needs a new one. Since Mushari-sama is currently without protection, I am required to leave immediately. Ayamu-sama believes that my family’s reputation and my father’s connections will serve me well in this new posting.
I will miss you and write to you as often as I am able. Know that I will always think on you and remember fondly our times spent dancing in the gardens pretending that the world was kind.
Sincerely, Kakita Arahime.
He put the letter down on the table, pouring more tea for Kenshin and himself. Wanting to do something with his hands so he wouldn’t need to look up and meet Kenshin’s eyes. He picked up his cup, took a long shallow sip, used the time to think, to turn over in his mind what the letter said.
It said everything, and nothing. In it he could hear Arahime’s voice, her resentment, and he dismissal of him. The last words of the letters were as final as a door closing in his face, even more hurtful than her talking about her “marriage prospects”.
“It’s…it’s a good offer,” Harun finally managed to say. “Honourable, will bring her renown and respect.”
Kenshin nodded in agreement. “She needs to find her own way, just as you are finding yours.” He sipped his tea, placing the cup down. “Would you tell me what you found, Harun-san? Was it what you were seeking?”
Harun took a deep breath, secretly relieved they were moving onto a safer subject. “Yes, and no,” he said. “I sought to know the clan of my mother, Utaku Yamada. The people of my blood. I had questions, and out there on the open plains I thought I would find answers.”
“And did you?” Kenshin asked.
“I did,” answered Harun. “But the ones I needed, not the ones I wanted.”
Kenshin nodded. “Tell me.”
Harun began his story.
A Story from the Fall of the Onyx Empire. This is set immediately after the events of School Days.
By Kakita Harun / Utaku Yamada WC5
Chapter 1
Spring, 1235 - Shiro san Kakita
Harun was relieved when the gates of Shiro sano Kakita came in sight. Just on dusk. He was just in time before they closed them for the night. He had been riding hard for three days, stopping only to rest his horse.
The guard, one familiar from Harun’s student days, waved him through when Harun showed his chop. Once inside he quickly secured his horse in the stable and then emerged in the familiar courtyard that separated the dojo from the rest of the castle. Ordered, every stone and flower in it’s perfect place.
It’s like coming home, thought Harun as he crossed it, nothing has changed.
But if nothing had changed here, Harun had certainly changed. He was taller, his skin darker from the time he had spent in the sun, his muscles hard from the riding and fighting in the Unicorn lands. His hair hung long and wild in loose curls around his shoulders, pooling in the hood of his deep purple fur-lined cloak that concealed his armour. He walked with an easy confidence, with purpose, as if he no longer cared who saw him.
But there was still the quietness in his eyes, akin to a deep well. A stillness he drew upon in the duelling ring, silence turned quickly to action.
In the courtyard outside the outside the dojo, the students gathered in small groups playing, practising or talking.
Recreation time, he remembered. He didn’t see Arahime, perhaps she was inside. He had lost track of the days on the road, what with the late snow holding him up.
“Harun!” A blue and white blur ran towards him, then at the last minute stopped and gave an awkward bow. “I’m sorry,” she said, stifling a giggle.
Harun laughed and came forward to embrace his little sister. “Sakimi-chan.” She had come to the academy the year before he had left. With her white hair and blue eyes she fit right in, and she had followed him around like a shadow whenever she could.
She ran her fingers through his long hair. “You look like a real Moto!” She laughed. “Did you see them? Did you see any Shiotome?”
“I saw lots of things, Sakimi-chan,” he said. “Where is Arahime? Is she still here?”
Sakimi hesitated. “She…she has left, Harun. A week ago,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
Harun’s face fell. “But…the championship?”
Sakimi shook her head. “It ended, the day before she left.”
Harun closed his eyes. “I promised her,” he said. He opened them again. “Why didn’t she wait for me?”
“I don’t know,” Sakimi said. “Aunt Kyoumi and Uncle Kousuda had to leave quickly.”
Harun clenched his fists and made a low groan. He would have done more, but remembered in time not only was Sakimi right there they didn’t do things like that in Crane lands.
“I’m sorry,” Sakimi repeated.
One of the sensei walked around ringing a small handbell, summoning the children to the evening meal. Sakimi looked at him then back at Harun.
“Go on,” Harun said. “We can talk more later.”
When Sakimi left, Harun sat down on a bench at the edge of the courtyard, running his hands through his hair. How often he and Arahime had sat there together in their student days. And she had left, without waiting for him, without saying goodbye.
It was of her that he had thought of when he rode home, that had spurred him on. And he hadn’t told her how he felt about her. How much he loved her. How much he cared.
It’s not too late, Harun thought, The gates are closed now, but I can leave at first light and be in Otosan Uchi in a few hours. He brightened at the thought. Wherever she’s going, she can’t have left yet.
A light moving across the courtyard made him look up. It was his old sensei, Kakita Kenshin, the Master Sensei of Kakita Academy. He supported himself with a walking stick with one hand and held a lantern with the other.
“Sensei.” Harun immediately got to his feet and bowed low.
Kenshin looked his former student up and down. “Harun-san, you have come back.” There was the hint of a smile in his careworn face.
“I heard I have missed the tournament,” Harun said, taking the lantern from Kenshin and falling into step beside him. “I did want to see Arahime compete.”
“She did well,” said Kenshin. “She was in the final round against Mirumoto Fumaki who narrowly bested her.”
“Sensei,” Harun said, his words sticking in his throat, “I had hoped to see her before she left.”
Kenshin stopped walking, thinking. “Come to my chambers later, we can speak more.” He signalled to a younger student who was crossing the courtyard going into dinner late. “Sumiko-chan, see that Kakita Harun is installed in the guest quarters.”
The girl bowed to the master sensei and Harun followed him.
Harun changed out of his armour, had a wash and changed into the fresh Crane colours clothes that had been provided for him. Then, after running through a few katas to loosen the muscles that had stiffened from the days riding, he entered Kenshin’s quarters.
How many times had he been summoned here as a student to face discipline? The first time in his first year when he thought we was going to be expelled.
He sat down at the table opposite Kenshin. A young student made and served tea under Kenshin’s watchful eye. This, too, had once been him. Making and serving tea to the Master Sensei’s honoured guests. He remembered how small he had felt, and when the boy bowed before leaving Harun nodded in return and gave her a small smile.
Silently, they sipped the tea. The light, fragrant brew was very different from the heavy, pungent blend that he had had with the Unicorn. A memory flashed before his eyes. Moto Chinua, unceremoniously dumping teapot, cups and a bowl of meat jerky on the table between them. Holding his hands stiffly to hide how they shook.
Kenshin put his cup down. “When I saw you had returned, I knew that there things that I wanted to hear from you. But, I think you have questions first.”
Harun nodded.
Kenshin thought a moment. “Arahime-san and I spoke of you a number of times before he gempukku,” he said. “She told me that she was…concerned. Concerned that you would not return.”
“I promised her, sensei,” said Harun.
“Yes, but you were tempted to stay, were you not?” Kenshin asked. “And more than once, I would say.”
Harun sipped his tea, draining the cup and placing it on the table. “I would be lying if I said I was not, sensei.”
Kenshin nodded. “As I said, she did well in the tournament. Perhaps she could have done better, had her focus had been inward rather than on the perfection of her outward form.”
Harun nodded in return. “Sounds like her,” he said. “But why isn’t she here? Was she mad at me?”
“One has nothing to do with the other,” said Kenshin. “She probably would be here, had she leave to do so, but she did not.” He reached into his haori and gave Harun a folded piece of paper. “She left this for me to give to you. I told her you would return, and I was right.”
Harun smiled, but it fell quickly off his face as he read the letter.
Dear Harun-san,
I am sorry I was not able to stay until you finally arrived. You missed a lovely time at the Topaz Championship. Of course, Mirumoto Fumaki, claimed the prize, but everyone tells me that coming second is very respectable and brings great honour to the family.
Mother tells me that there were several inquiries about marriage prospects already, but it is early days yet. My only regret is that you were not there to cheer me on. It rained during the tsu-fish hunt, but the boys I was teamed up with and I persevered. Remember when we used to go look for them? The chase was exciting, certainly. I am sure that you had many exciting adventures during your days in Unicorn Lands. I wish I could have heard all about them.
Your father was also here, though he had to leave early. There was some trouble with the merchant ships in Otosan Uchi he needed to attend to.
Unfortunately, right after the closing ceremonies, I received my new assignment, directly from Doji Ayamu-sama. The most recent yojimbo for the Crane Ambassador in Second City recently committed seppuku regarding an incident with a Yoritomo courtier. The ambassador, Doji Mushari, needs a new one. Since Mushari-sama is currently without protection, I am required to leave immediately. Ayamu-sama believes that my family’s reputation and my father’s connections will serve me well in this new posting.
I will miss you and write to you as often as I am able. Know that I will always think on you and remember fondly our times spent dancing in the gardens pretending that the world was kind.
Sincerely, Kakita Arahime.
He put the letter down on the table, pouring more tea for Kenshin and himself. Wanting to do something with his hands so he wouldn’t need to look up and meet Kenshin’s eyes. He picked up his cup, took a long shallow sip, used the time to think, to turn over in his mind what the letter said.
It said everything, and nothing. In it he could hear Arahime’s voice, her resentment, and he dismissal of him. The last words of the letters were as final as a door closing in his face, even more hurtful than her talking about her “marriage prospects”.
“It’s…it’s a good offer,” Harun finally managed to say. “Honourable, will bring her renown and respect.”
Kenshin nodded in agreement. “She needs to find her own way, just as you are finding yours.” He sipped his tea, placing the cup down. “Would you tell me what you found, Harun-san? Was it what you were seeking?”
Harun took a deep breath, secretly relieved they were moving onto a safer subject. “Yes, and no,” he said. “I sought to know the clan of my mother, Utaku Yamada. The people of my blood. I had questions, and out there on the open plains I thought I would find answers.”
“And did you?” Kenshin asked.
“I did,” answered Harun. “But the ones I needed, not the ones I wanted.”
Kenshin nodded. “Tell me.”
Harun began his story.
