Ryu
I wasn’t supposed to be in the village of Aso. Hell, I wasn’t supposed to leave the house at night. If my stepfather ever found out, he’d kill me on the spot. But I can’t help myself. It’s like an addiction.
So I wander the nearby villages at night and I wander the mountainside and the lush forest. I explore the volcano’s crater when it’s not too smoky. I even went to Kumamoto Castle one night just to see if I could scale the towers and touch the moon.
But at that particular moment, I was in the small farming village of Aso because I couldn’t help myself.
I had to see the Shogun’s Elite.
I crouched at the edge of the forest and observed the town. It was a dark night so approaching the village unseen would be easy. I watched the main gates for a few minutes and when I was convinced there were no guards or patrols in the area, I ran across the clearing, staying low, staying in the shadows.
I climbed the outer wall and made my way to the roof of the village training hall. I scanned the streets for movement but found none.
The whole village was quiet. There were no farmers. No samurai. No women. No children. No one at all. I couldn’t hear any voices.
The narrow laneways were lined with torches giving the impression that the whole place was ready for a festival of some sort. And with the Shogun’s Elite in town I’d thought there’d be more people out.
Aso was only a small farming village with a small population but since the war, a lot of Samurai who had survived the fighting had settled out here and started families. This was the main reason for the Shogun’s presence. He had been making his way through the south country, working his way down from the capital, enforcing the peace treaty and the terms of surrender on all the regional Samurai clans. He wanted these old Samurai to hand over their swords. To pledge their allegiance. To give their word that they would never rebel.
Sometimes the situation would get violent and the local Samurai would fight back. That’s why the Shogun would travel with a thousand of his fiercest and meanest and deadliest and most loyal Samurai. They all dressed in black and they were all ready to fight to the death. They were known as the Shogun’s Elite. They were the greatest fighting force in the entire country and I couldn’t wait to see them.
I made my way to the training hall. I knew it would be empty. The doors were boarded up and the slated windows were all shut. I looked around to make sure the surrounding streets were vacant. When I was completely sure I was alone, I lifted one of the windows and silently climbed in.
Even though it was dark, except for the torchlight filtering through the slated windows, I was always excited to set foot inside a real dojo. And right now, I had the whole place to myself.
My stepfather did not want me learning the way of the sword. Or any forms of fighting for that matter. And he refused to teach me. Whenever I asked him why, he always said because he had seen enough bloodshed to last a thousand lifetimes. And he was worried that I’d get sucked into some hopeless war like he did. Sometimes my stepfather could be a real hard ass. But I knew he was just looking out for me. He had adopted me and raised me as his own from when I was really young.
I wish I could remember my birth parents. But I can’t. My father was killed in the Great War and I never knew my mother.
I can’t remember much of my childhood at all. Whenever I try, only flashes appear. I can’t remember how I got the massive tattoo that covers my entire body. And I don’t know how I can do the things, I can do.
The first time it happened, well the first time I remember, I was terrified. I was roaming the streets of Kumamoto, exploring the river and the forest nearby. I was about to pick some mushrooms to take home when I heard a voice from behind.
“Those mushrooms don’t belong to you, boy. This is our forest now.”
I froze. I had been taken completely by surprise. I thought I was alone. I left the mushrooms in the ground.
“Turn around, boy.”
I did as the man said and I was confronted by three ragged looking bandits. One of which was wearing an eye patch. They were obviously destitute. Former Samurai, turned wandering Ronin, forced into a life of crime. They were all armed with swords even though it was against the law to carry them.
“We’ll make you a deal,” said the man with the eye patch. “We’ll let you pick those mushrooms on one condition. The condition being that you make us a soup.”
“Yeah,” said one of the other men. “But if we don’t like it there’ll be trouble if you catch my meaning. Do you catch my meaning?”
The men laughed at me.
I was still in a state of shock. I was speechless. I decided to run. I don’t know why I decided to run. I guess I panicked. I ran along the river, and crossed where the stream narrowed. I ran up the hill as fast as I could. But the bandits pursued.
They called out to me, taunting me, describing the things they were going to do to me once they had caught me. I had always prided myself on my speed and quickness and I was able to put some distance between me and the bandits.
I looked over my shoulder. I could barely see them anymore. It was getting dark and I was convinced I could outrun them and make it all the way back home.
I should’ve been looking where I was going.
I ran right into the fourth member of their gang. He blindsided me, knocking me off my feet, knocking the wind from my lungs. I tried to breathe but my lungs wouldn’t work. He placed his foot on my chest and waited for the others to catch up. He unsheathed his sword and placed the tip of the blade against my throat.
To my surprise, when the others showed up he was angry at them. “What the hell are you idiots doing? This boy is a peasant! Look at his clothes. He is obviously a farmer’s son. He has no money. He has nothing of value.”
“We thought that maybe…”
“No. You weren’t thinking.”
He took his foot off me and I finally caught my breath.
“Slash his neck,” the leader said. “And throw him in the river.”
The man with the eye patch raised his sword and I closed my eyes and waited for the blade to end my life.
I waited. And waited.
I opened my eyes. I was in the field closest to my two-storey house, next to the horse stable. My whole body was shaking from fear and from exhaustion. I was staring up at the glow of a full moon. I was covered in its silver light. I was breathing hard.
I couldn’t believe I had cheated death.
Ever since that night I have been practicing in secret. I would travel from one side of the mountain to the other, I would move from the first floor of my house to the second floor.
I have no idea how I do it or how it’s possible. The only thing I know is that it takes a huge amount of strength and energy and focus.
One time, when I was feeling particularly brave and stupid, I snuck into the armory at Kumamoto Castle. The reason I did this was because I wanted to see a real katana, one forged by a master sword maker.
My curiosity nearly got me killed.
While I was snooping around, a patrol of guards entered the room. If they found me trespassing in the armory I would’ve been executed. No warning, no nothing. They would’ve cut my head off and hung my body up where the townspeople could see.
I hid behind a large set of armor. I figured all I needed to do was close my eyes and concentrate and think of my house, my farm, the field next to the horse stable, and I would be spirited away.
But nothing happened.
I was too tired. I had neither the strength nor the focus nor the energy to escape.
The only thing I could do was make myself as small as possible and hold my breath.
I kept telling myself to remain calm.
I kept telling myself not to panic.
The entire time I held my breath.
The guards walked right up to me. They were looking right at me. But through me.
They lifted the armor that I was hiding behind and carried it out of the room.
/> They couldn’t see me.
I had turned invisible.
I was a ghost.
I exhaled slowly and my body came back into view. First my arms and legs. And then my torso.
I ended up sleeping the night in the armory because I was locked inside.
Early the next morning I made my escape.
My stepfather had no idea I was gone.
The entire day, as I worked alongside him in the field, I couldn’t help but think; when I hold my breath I can turn invisible. I can become a ghost.
I couldn’t wait for nightfall.
I snuck out of my room and headed for the forest. And now I practice whenever I can. If I concentrate hard enough and stay calm, I can hold my breath for over three minutes. Sometimes I can sneak up on deer. Sometimes, if I concentrate, and take my time, I can reach out and touch their coat without them knowing I’m there.
Outside the training hall I heard the sound of galloping horses. I waited for the noise to fade away before I moved over to a rack of weapons. I picked up a wooden training sword.
I couldn’t help but think that soon, once the Shogun has his way, these wooden training swords will be the only kind of swords left. Apparently once the Shogun collects the katanas, he takes them back to the capital. There are rumors of a Great Hall of Swords hidden in the Shogun’s Palace. The blades cover the walls and the ceilings and the floors.
Now there’s a place I’d like to sneak into.
I held the wooden training sword with both hands and began practicing the simple moves that I’d seen the Samurai at Kumamoto practicing. I’ve tried to commit as many moves to memory as possible but unfortunately that number is not a lot. I am useless with a sword. I can only hope that one day my stepfather will finally give in and agree to teach me.
The wooden sword was heavy and I had worked up a sweat in no time. I removed my jacket and made double sure I was alone. Not just because I’d be severely punished for sneaking into the training hall, but because I don’t let anyone see my tattoos. Even in summer and autumn when it’s hot and humid and the air is heavy I always wear a long sleeve jacket.
I raised the wooden sword high above my head and brought it slicing down. I then held the sword out in front of my body. Horizontally.
I focused my concentration.
And the sword hovered in mid air.
This was another trick I’d discovered I could do. Again, I had to concentrate really hard and it practically took all my strength. It felt like I was holding a massive boulder out in front of my body.
Beads of sweat formed on my forehead, droplets spattered the floorboards of the dojo.
Outside I heard shouting. The first voices I had heard since entering the village. There was a pause. Followed by silence. Like a calm before a storm. Seconds passed. And then the sound of swords clashing together and the screams of dying men.
My concentration wavered and I dropped the wooden sword.
Suddenly the entrance opened at the far end of the training hall.
Someone was coming.
I quickly and silently moved back against the far wall.
I held my breath and concentrated.
I became invisible. First my hands disappeared, then my arms and legs and my entire body.
I grabbed my jacket and it turned invisible as well.
It was the perfect camouflage technique. I was completely invisible. But like I said, the only problem was I could only keep this up for as long as I could hold my breath.
One of the Shogun’s Samurai walked through the doors and into the training hall. I don’t know why he had decided to check it out but he had a good look around and he took his sweet time.
I was running out of air. I could hear my heart beat loudly inside my head.
The Samurai continued walking towards me. He then found the wooden training sword I had dropped. He picked it up and whipped it through the air, completing a series of moves with amazing speed and dexterity, before placing it back in the rack.
As he turned away to leave, I let out a breath and my physical shape began to return.
The guard stopped. He had heard me exhaling.
I closed my eyes and concentrated once more. I held my breath and turned completely invisible even though my lungs were screaming for air.
I ordered myself to remain calm.
Do not panic. Do not panic.
“There’s no one here,” the man said.
Who the hell was he talking to?
“Are you sure?” a voice replied from the darkness.
“Yes. I am sure.”
Just then, something, someone emerged from the shadows cast by the torchlight outside.
Emerged from the shadows, I thought.
No way. There’s no goddamn way.
It was a shadow warrior.
“You are wrong,” the shadow warrior said. “There is someone here. I can sense their presence. I can smell their sweat.”
I could not believe what I was seeing. I thought these things only existed in myth.
I swallowed hard.
It appeared as though he was swimming in the shadows. I don’t know how else to explain it. He then sunk back into the floorboards and moved up the wall. Always in dark. Always in the shadows.
He moved higher up the wall to get a better vantage point. His arms lengthened. His legs lengthened. And then all of a sudden he had multiple arms and legs, like a spider. And just like a spider he clung to the dark ceiling of the training hall. Feeling in the shadows. Searching.
Once again, I was almost out of breath. I shifted my weight slightly and I began to panic. The floorboards creaked beneath my feet.
The shadow warrior immediately snapped its head in my direction.
“I told you,” he said to the Samurai.
A knife flew from the dark and decapitated the guard. His lifeless, headless body was then dragged into the shadow never to be seen again.
Death was the price of descent, the price of failure.
And I knew I was next.
The shadow warrior knew exactly where I was.
Suddenly I could hear the noise of his blade move through the air, coming right for my neck. I could the feel his blade move through the air.
I closed my eyes. I exhaled. Concentrated. Focused.
I had moved out of the dojo but I could still hear the sound of the shadow warrior’s blade cut deep into the wall. It took me a few seconds to get my bearings. Whenever I move like that, I always feel dizzy and slightly disorientated. I feel weak and exhausted.
It took me another few seconds to realize I was now in the town square, that I had evaded the shadow warrior.
But I was not out of danger yet.
In the very middle of the town square was a large fire. A bonfire. I could hear the screams of men and women and children off in the distance.
Standing behind the fire, as if he were supervising and controlling the flames, urging them to grow, was a figure dressed in black. I knew instantly that it was the Shogun. And I now know why they call him the Dark Shogun.
He was dressed in his black battle armor and he wore a large black helmet, with long, curved buffalo horns. His black face mask was a scowl of evil designed to instill fear into anyone that looked upon it.
I ducked and moved away from the fire, into a small alleyway between the village inn and the horse stable.
From this hiding spot I witnessed the massacre of town’s people. The farmers. The women. The children. These were not Samurai. These were innocent people. And they were cut down by the Shogun’s Elite and thrown on to the fire.
I should’ve run back into the forest at that point. I should’ve run all the way home and then kept running. But I couldn’t move.
The Shogun’s Elite dragged a man into the town square and dropped him in front of the fire.
I recognized him as the owner of the inn. I think his name was Hideo.
He tried to scramble and scurry away but he stopped moving as soon as
the Dark Shogun stood over him.
“How much?” The Shogun asked.
Hideo shook his head. “What?”
“How much for your life?”
When the Shogun spoke you could feel his voice in your chest, as if it were reverberating right through your body.
The man stumbled back, trying to get away. Just as he was about to get to his feet, the Shogun reached out with a large powerful hand, grabbing Hideo around his neck.
“How much?” the Shogun persisted.
The Shogun appeared to grow in stature. He now stood taller than any man I had ever seen, taller than a house.
The Dark Shogun picked up Hideo and slammed him on to the roof of the inn. He held him down with one giant hand. His hands and fingers were black and made of claws and talons. He had skin like a snake.
“What… what do you want?” Hideo asked. “Why are you doing this?”
“A drifter passed through here yesterday,” the Shogun said. “Where was he going?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see anybody come through here.”
“You are lying.”
Hideo screamed out in pain. “Please! I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The Shogun lifted Hideo clear off the roof and slammed him back down. “You will tell me where the drifter was going or you will die. And I will burn this village to the ground.”
The Shogun tightened his grip. Hideo began choking. “Where are the rest of the men? Where are the Samurai? We know they are hiding out here. Where is the drifter? He was a Kensei warrior. The one they call the wolf.”
“I don’t know. I swear. This is just a farming village. We are peaceful.”
“If you are so peaceful then why do you have a training hall? Why do you have a stable of warhorses?”
Over at the bonfire the Shogun’s men continued to throw bodies of innocent people into the flames.
“Please,” Hideo begged. “You have my word.”
“Your deceit will guarantee you a slow death,” the Shogun threatened. “Talk and I will let you live.”
Hideo thought over his options. Not that he had many. He decided to confess. “I don’t know where the drifter was going. He didn’t speak. He didn’t say a word to anyone.”
“And what of the Samurai? Where are they hiding?”
“They have moved up the mountainside. They are near the crater.”
“They have run like cowards,” the Shogun said. “They are pathetic.”
Hideo nodded. “I can lead them to you. I can bring them back here if you want. Just let me go.”
The Shogun shook his head. “No.”
“But you said you would let me live. You lied!”
“As did you.”
The Shogun tightened his grip once more, lifting and holding Hideo high above his head. He then snapped his neck with one hand and threw the corpse into the fire.