The Sword Path
(TOGASHI AND SHINSEI)
The dojo was a simple room with simple wooden floors, simple paper panels, and nothing more. Sunlight spilled into the room, making the floors warm to the touch. The only decoration in the dojo were the words painted on the north wall with a spontaneous, almost instinctive style.
For as long as she could remember, she would look at the words written on the wall and wonder at them. She would sneak in at night and stare at the words, as if just by staring she could glean some meaning from them. It wouldn’t be until she was nine that she would begin to understand their importance.
It was Satsu, her older brother, who first told her the story. Sitting in the dojo, she remembered the cool tones of his voice, the flash of his eyes, and his beautiful movements as he practiced kenjutsu in the dojo. She remembered how he would open the panels, letting the wind sweep through the room and how it would tickle her skin under her kimono and she would giggle as she watched him fence with the wind. His laughter was sweet and simple and would echo across the mountains that surrounded their home. Together they would look out from the dojo and see all of Rokugan stretched out below them.
She loved her brother. And she remembered the stories of the past he told to her when she was so small he needed to lift her so she could sit in his lap.
“It was a long time ago, my sister,” he would begin. “When all the world was young.”
“Even the mountains?” she asked.
“Yes, even the mountains. So young that they were short and squat, and not tall and noble as they are today. And it was in this time that the first Emperor and his brothers and sisters were at war with the dark one who lurks under the world.”
She nodded and did not speak the name she knew she was forbidden to speak.
“And the armies of the dark brother marched across the world, killing all who stood in their path. The first Emperor was lost. His brother was using magic he did not understand. Even noble Akodo and wise Shiba could not advise him.”
“What did he do, Satsu?” she asked.
“He decided he would face his dark brother alone. Akodo forbade the Emperor to do so. ‘That is my duty,’ he said. But the Emperor refused and set out to face the dark brother on his own, knowing half in his heart that he would not succeed.”
She gasped, and closed her eyes, afraid to see what would happen next.
Satsu smiled and continued. “But before he could leave, a man dressed in a simple kimono, a wide hat, and a long staff approached him and bowed low. ‘I am Shinsei,’ he said to the Emperor.”
She laughed and clapped, for she had heard many stories of clever Shinsei and was quite fond of tales of the funny little man.
“’What do you bring the Emperor, little man?’ asked Akodo.
“’Only wisdom,’ answered Shinsei.’
“’Well, then. Let us see your wisdom,’ said Akodo, and he stepped forward, drawing his sword…”
--------------------------------
“Let us see what you’ve learned,” said her sensei as he entered the dojo with a boken in his hand.
Her concentration was broken and the memory faded into the background as her training took the forefront of her attention. She took into her hand the wooden sword lying to her right, and drew the shorter boken from her obi. Her sensei did the same.
“Choose a stance,” he told her.
She remained still, with both arms relaxed and at her sides.
Her sensei did the same.
She met his gaze, then let her own stay there.
She was not aware of time. She remained in her stance as the morning sun crept across the sky. She felt the wind pass through the room, cool from its passage across the snow-capped mountains, and heard a stream trickling over smooth stones as it made its way down into the lands of the Lion, but neither wind nor water disturbed her focus.
Then, a small sparrow swooped through an open panel of the room and both samurai moved. By the time the sparrow left the room, five strikes had been made. When it was gone, she stood with her boken against her sensei’s throat. His own was at his feet. His shorter boken was tied up in her kimono. Her shorter boken was pointed against his belly.
She stepped away, bowed, and sat back down, placing her short blade in her obi and her long blade at her side. She set her focus back on the words behind her sensei and remembered….
----------------------------------------------
“…The defeated Akodo rubbed the bruise on his neck as he listened to the little man’s words. All about him, the Children of Sun and Moon also listened, but Shinsei’s words were directed at the Emperor Hantei.
“As he spoke, the Emperor and his brothers and sisters asked questions. Shinsei answered them, but more often than not his answers only led to more questions.
“The only one who was silent was the one whom Shinsei called ‘Togashi’. What his name was before this I do not know, and I doubt anyone else knows. Togashi listened quietly, showing no sign of understanding, or even of interest. But then Shinjo asked a question and when Shinsei answered, Togashi stood. All of his brothers and sisters were startled by Togashi’s sudden action, but Shinsei was not. He watched Togashi look at him, and then watched him walk away into the forest.
“As he walked, two men followed. Their names were Mirumoto and Agasha, and they were loyal to Togashi. When they found him alone in the forest, he told them to stay back. When they asked him why he said, ‘I will not move until I understand.’
“Mirumoto looked at Agasha and the two were perplexed. ‘My lord,’ asked Mirumoto. ‘What do you mean?’
“’I mean what I say,’ replied Togashi.
“Despite their pleas, Togashi refused to move, or eat, or drink. Mirumoto and Agasha tried to bring him food and sake, but he did not move.
“Nine days passed this way, with the sun rising and setting and Togashi motionless in the center of a circle of food and drink. Mirumoto and Agasha begged Shinsei to speak to Togashi, but Shinsei shook his head and said, ‘When the student is ready, the teacher is there.’
“On the morning of the tenth day, Togashi could barely speak. His body was dying and his mind was dim. His vision was clouded with shadows, but he saw a little man step to the edge of the circle and kneel beside it. Togashi recognized the little man, and Togashi told him, ‘I will not move until I understand.’
“Shinsei smiled and nodded. ‘Neither will I,’ he said and he stepped over the food and drink and sat down in the circle next to Togashi.
“Togashi’s murky eyes filled with astonishment and then, his dry lips smiled. He nodded and a nightingale flew into the circle as well, carrying a branch from a plum blossom tree. Togashi ate the sweet fruit from the branch and together, he and Shinsei ate the food that encircled them.”
------------------------------------------
She smelled the food that surrounded her, but she did not reach toward it. Instead, her mind reached toward the words on the wall, trying to grasp them. Every moment she thought they were within her reach, they slipped away and taunted her with their prize.
The crimson glow of the setting sun filled the room and her skin felt its warmth and the cool promise of the night wind that was beginning to build from the east. Another day without an answer. Her stomach grumbled, her parched lips yearned for the sake before her and her ankles begged for release. She blinked away a bead of sweat that fell into her eye and she felt a curse build in her throat, but she never let her gaze waver from the words.
At her knees, a single piece of parchment, a pen and an ink well waited for her. They would be expecting her answer by the time the sun had set and she had nothing.
She blinked again, and her mind wandered into another memory. She tried to move away from it, to remain focused on the words, but it gripped her mind and would not let go. She felt the emotion stir in her belly, replacing the hunger, and she blinked again, but this time, it was to drive away the tears…
---------------------------------------------------
His blood fell onto the floor making the sound of spilled soup. He dropped to one knee, his sword dropped to the floor. She heard her mother gasp, but her father was silent.
Satsu looke dup, saw her fear in her eyes, and managed to put a smile on his pain-wracked lips before the tetsubo crashed into his face and trickles of blood sprayed into her eyes.
“FOUL!” her father cried, his voice croaking in his throat. Her mother tried to cover her eyes, but she pulled away. She saw Satsu’s body twitch once as it writhed on the floor and the remainder of his life fled from his flesh.
The gray-clad samurai flashed a look at her father and lowered his blood-stained tetsubo. His eyes narrowed and he growled. “Do you have something to say on the matter, old man?”
Her father said nothing. Her mother said nothing. She could only watch.
“Togashi Satsu is dead!” the samurai cried. “The matter is at an end. His wife’s claims are invalid. She is a liar, no better than the Scorpion scum who spread the rumor in the first place.” The Crab smiled. “Are there any others who wish to dispute my word?”
The court of the Bayushi family was silent. She looked for a samurai to step forward, to defend her brother’s wife, but there was no-one.
She stood up, shrugged off her mother’s grasping hands and stepped forward. The Crab did not see her cross the courtroom until he heard her lift her brother’s sword. Then he turned and looked down at her.
“What is this?” he said, asking with the voice a despondent father uses with his child.
She pointed the sword at the Crab and waited. The Crab smacked the blade aside and down, knocking it from her grip. She heard her mother scream, but she never let her gaze move from the blood-soaked Crab.
He raised his tetsubo over hear head and let it rest on the top of her skull. He leaned down to get a better look at her and she spit in his eye.
She felt the entire courtroom gasp and hold its breath.
The samurai’s fist gripped the tetsubo as his other hand wiped the spittle from his face. HE smiled and chuckled.
“I won’t kill you now, little one,” he said as he stepped backwards. “But you will remember that I could have.”
She stood perfectly still as she watched him leave the court, and watched his entourage leave with him. Then she looked down at her brother’s body and saw what the tetsubo had done to his face. His sweet, kind, gentle, laughing face.
A swift dark wind consumed her and she fell.
--------------------------------------------------
…falling, I’m falling…
She awoke just in time to catch herself. Lifting her weary head away from the paneled floor, she blinked to clear the sleep from her eyes. Then, she looked at the sun. It was nearly gone from the sky. She looked at the words, then her gaze flashed to the empty paper.
“Satsu,” she whispered. “Help me, Satsu.”
The night air was cold, but her cheeks were hot.
The last drops of sunlight were falling away.
She looked at the words, looked down at the blank paper, picked up the pen and wrote
Truth’s path is a sword
The blade cuts my palms and heels
Still I will not fall
She dropped the pen and drops of ink splattered across the words. The last shaft of light slipped away under the horizon. She felt a hand touch her shoulder and she spun about…but there were only shadows behind her.
“Daughter?”
She spun about again, seeing her father standing in the doorway of the dojo. Standing beside him was her sensei. He stepped forward and picked up the paper. All three of them were silent as he looked over the words. She felt anticipation filling her belly, dulling the pain in her ankles.
The sensei looked up from the paper to her and said, “You are my pupil no longer.” He passed the paper to her father and left them alone in the room.
Her father read the words, then looked at her and read them again.
He spoke no words. His eyes told her.
“My daughter,” he said.
“Hitomi,” she said, her voice echoing off the paper walls. “My name is Hitomi.”
The dojo was a simple room with simple wooden floors, simple paper panels, and nothing more. Sunlight spilled into the room, making the floors warm to the touch. The only decoration in the dojo were the words painted on the north wall with a spontaneous, almost instinctive style.
For as long as she could remember, she would look at the words written on the wall and wonder at them. She would sneak in at night and stare at the words, as if just by staring she could glean some meaning from them. It wouldn’t be until she was nine that she would begin to understand their importance.
It was Satsu, her older brother, who first told her the story. Sitting in the dojo, she remembered the cool tones of his voice, the flash of his eyes, and his beautiful movements as he practiced kenjutsu in the dojo. She remembered how he would open the panels, letting the wind sweep through the room and how it would tickle her skin under her kimono and she would giggle as she watched him fence with the wind. His laughter was sweet and simple and would echo across the mountains that surrounded their home. Together they would look out from the dojo and see all of Rokugan stretched out below them.
She loved her brother. And she remembered the stories of the past he told to her when she was so small he needed to lift her so she could sit in his lap.
“It was a long time ago, my sister,” he would begin. “When all the world was young.”
“Even the mountains?” she asked.
“Yes, even the mountains. So young that they were short and squat, and not tall and noble as they are today. And it was in this time that the first Emperor and his brothers and sisters were at war with the dark one who lurks under the world.”
She nodded and did not speak the name she knew she was forbidden to speak.
“And the armies of the dark brother marched across the world, killing all who stood in their path. The first Emperor was lost. His brother was using magic he did not understand. Even noble Akodo and wise Shiba could not advise him.”
“What did he do, Satsu?” she asked.
“He decided he would face his dark brother alone. Akodo forbade the Emperor to do so. ‘That is my duty,’ he said. But the Emperor refused and set out to face the dark brother on his own, knowing half in his heart that he would not succeed.”
She gasped, and closed her eyes, afraid to see what would happen next.
Satsu smiled and continued. “But before he could leave, a man dressed in a simple kimono, a wide hat, and a long staff approached him and bowed low. ‘I am Shinsei,’ he said to the Emperor.”
She laughed and clapped, for she had heard many stories of clever Shinsei and was quite fond of tales of the funny little man.
“’What do you bring the Emperor, little man?’ asked Akodo.
“’Only wisdom,’ answered Shinsei.’
“’Well, then. Let us see your wisdom,’ said Akodo, and he stepped forward, drawing his sword…”
--------------------------------
“Let us see what you’ve learned,” said her sensei as he entered the dojo with a boken in his hand.
Her concentration was broken and the memory faded into the background as her training took the forefront of her attention. She took into her hand the wooden sword lying to her right, and drew the shorter boken from her obi. Her sensei did the same.
“Choose a stance,” he told her.
She remained still, with both arms relaxed and at her sides.
Her sensei did the same.
She met his gaze, then let her own stay there.
She was not aware of time. She remained in her stance as the morning sun crept across the sky. She felt the wind pass through the room, cool from its passage across the snow-capped mountains, and heard a stream trickling over smooth stones as it made its way down into the lands of the Lion, but neither wind nor water disturbed her focus.
Then, a small sparrow swooped through an open panel of the room and both samurai moved. By the time the sparrow left the room, five strikes had been made. When it was gone, she stood with her boken against her sensei’s throat. His own was at his feet. His shorter boken was tied up in her kimono. Her shorter boken was pointed against his belly.
She stepped away, bowed, and sat back down, placing her short blade in her obi and her long blade at her side. She set her focus back on the words behind her sensei and remembered….
----------------------------------------------
“…The defeated Akodo rubbed the bruise on his neck as he listened to the little man’s words. All about him, the Children of Sun and Moon also listened, but Shinsei’s words were directed at the Emperor Hantei.
“As he spoke, the Emperor and his brothers and sisters asked questions. Shinsei answered them, but more often than not his answers only led to more questions.
“The only one who was silent was the one whom Shinsei called ‘Togashi’. What his name was before this I do not know, and I doubt anyone else knows. Togashi listened quietly, showing no sign of understanding, or even of interest. But then Shinjo asked a question and when Shinsei answered, Togashi stood. All of his brothers and sisters were startled by Togashi’s sudden action, but Shinsei was not. He watched Togashi look at him, and then watched him walk away into the forest.
“As he walked, two men followed. Their names were Mirumoto and Agasha, and they were loyal to Togashi. When they found him alone in the forest, he told them to stay back. When they asked him why he said, ‘I will not move until I understand.’
“Mirumoto looked at Agasha and the two were perplexed. ‘My lord,’ asked Mirumoto. ‘What do you mean?’
“’I mean what I say,’ replied Togashi.
“Despite their pleas, Togashi refused to move, or eat, or drink. Mirumoto and Agasha tried to bring him food and sake, but he did not move.
“Nine days passed this way, with the sun rising and setting and Togashi motionless in the center of a circle of food and drink. Mirumoto and Agasha begged Shinsei to speak to Togashi, but Shinsei shook his head and said, ‘When the student is ready, the teacher is there.’
“On the morning of the tenth day, Togashi could barely speak. His body was dying and his mind was dim. His vision was clouded with shadows, but he saw a little man step to the edge of the circle and kneel beside it. Togashi recognized the little man, and Togashi told him, ‘I will not move until I understand.’
“Shinsei smiled and nodded. ‘Neither will I,’ he said and he stepped over the food and drink and sat down in the circle next to Togashi.
“Togashi’s murky eyes filled with astonishment and then, his dry lips smiled. He nodded and a nightingale flew into the circle as well, carrying a branch from a plum blossom tree. Togashi ate the sweet fruit from the branch and together, he and Shinsei ate the food that encircled them.”
------------------------------------------
She smelled the food that surrounded her, but she did not reach toward it. Instead, her mind reached toward the words on the wall, trying to grasp them. Every moment she thought they were within her reach, they slipped away and taunted her with their prize.
The crimson glow of the setting sun filled the room and her skin felt its warmth and the cool promise of the night wind that was beginning to build from the east. Another day without an answer. Her stomach grumbled, her parched lips yearned for the sake before her and her ankles begged for release. She blinked away a bead of sweat that fell into her eye and she felt a curse build in her throat, but she never let her gaze waver from the words.
At her knees, a single piece of parchment, a pen and an ink well waited for her. They would be expecting her answer by the time the sun had set and she had nothing.
She blinked again, and her mind wandered into another memory. She tried to move away from it, to remain focused on the words, but it gripped her mind and would not let go. She felt the emotion stir in her belly, replacing the hunger, and she blinked again, but this time, it was to drive away the tears…
---------------------------------------------------
His blood fell onto the floor making the sound of spilled soup. He dropped to one knee, his sword dropped to the floor. She heard her mother gasp, but her father was silent.
Satsu looke dup, saw her fear in her eyes, and managed to put a smile on his pain-wracked lips before the tetsubo crashed into his face and trickles of blood sprayed into her eyes.
“FOUL!” her father cried, his voice croaking in his throat. Her mother tried to cover her eyes, but she pulled away. She saw Satsu’s body twitch once as it writhed on the floor and the remainder of his life fled from his flesh.
The gray-clad samurai flashed a look at her father and lowered his blood-stained tetsubo. His eyes narrowed and he growled. “Do you have something to say on the matter, old man?”
Her father said nothing. Her mother said nothing. She could only watch.
“Togashi Satsu is dead!” the samurai cried. “The matter is at an end. His wife’s claims are invalid. She is a liar, no better than the Scorpion scum who spread the rumor in the first place.” The Crab smiled. “Are there any others who wish to dispute my word?”
The court of the Bayushi family was silent. She looked for a samurai to step forward, to defend her brother’s wife, but there was no-one.
She stood up, shrugged off her mother’s grasping hands and stepped forward. The Crab did not see her cross the courtroom until he heard her lift her brother’s sword. Then he turned and looked down at her.
“What is this?” he said, asking with the voice a despondent father uses with his child.
She pointed the sword at the Crab and waited. The Crab smacked the blade aside and down, knocking it from her grip. She heard her mother scream, but she never let her gaze move from the blood-soaked Crab.
He raised his tetsubo over hear head and let it rest on the top of her skull. He leaned down to get a better look at her and she spit in his eye.
She felt the entire courtroom gasp and hold its breath.
The samurai’s fist gripped the tetsubo as his other hand wiped the spittle from his face. HE smiled and chuckled.
“I won’t kill you now, little one,” he said as he stepped backwards. “But you will remember that I could have.”
She stood perfectly still as she watched him leave the court, and watched his entourage leave with him. Then she looked down at her brother’s body and saw what the tetsubo had done to his face. His sweet, kind, gentle, laughing face.
A swift dark wind consumed her and she fell.
--------------------------------------------------
…falling, I’m falling…
She awoke just in time to catch herself. Lifting her weary head away from the paneled floor, she blinked to clear the sleep from her eyes. Then, she looked at the sun. It was nearly gone from the sky. She looked at the words, then her gaze flashed to the empty paper.
“Satsu,” she whispered. “Help me, Satsu.”
The night air was cold, but her cheeks were hot.
The last drops of sunlight were falling away.
She looked at the words, looked down at the blank paper, picked up the pen and wrote
Truth’s path is a sword
The blade cuts my palms and heels
Still I will not fall
She dropped the pen and drops of ink splattered across the words. The last shaft of light slipped away under the horizon. She felt a hand touch her shoulder and she spun about…but there were only shadows behind her.
“Daughter?”
She spun about again, seeing her father standing in the doorway of the dojo. Standing beside him was her sensei. He stepped forward and picked up the paper. All three of them were silent as he looked over the words. She felt anticipation filling her belly, dulling the pain in her ankles.
The sensei looked up from the paper to her and said, “You are my pupil no longer.” He passed the paper to her father and left them alone in the room.
Her father read the words, then looked at her and read them again.
He spoke no words. His eyes told her.
“My daughter,” he said.
“Hitomi,” she said, her voice echoing off the paper walls. “My name is Hitomi.”
