“You think I betrayed your Daimyo, but Hideyoshi never gave me anything of value.”
“Except the chance to end your life as a mercenary.”
The ninja scoffed. “I don’t obey any voice but my own.”
“I know,” he replied. “It’s why you’re going to die.”
With a strident sound, their weapons glanced off each other and a flock of birds scattered from the treetops. When the ninja attacked again, Onozawa threw him to the ground and shoved his sword deep enough to dig into the gravel of the riverbed. He pulled the body from the water and dropped it on the shore.
“We don’t want your spirit poisoning the animals,” he said as he searched the man and found a bundle of cloth containing a gleaming gold-encrusted key. Even with its jade emblem covering the handle, he knew that its material value could not match its sentimental importance to the Daimyo. He hid it in his belt and used the cold river to clean the blood from his katana while watching the flock of birds maneuver like a wave across the sky.
* * * * *
Shinji walked for hours through the dark woods. Though the formal path between provinces was a quicker route, he would be back by daybreak either way and preferred the anonymity. Honeysuckle floated on the breeze and he stopped to breathe it in, letting the sweetness of the flower saturate his taste buds. When a gray fox scampered from the bushes and sniffed the air, Onozawa reached into his pocket for a handful of red berries and tossed them to the animal’s feet. She ate them with a voracious appetite, squeezing the juice between sharp teeth and lapping up the remains from her chin, then she licked her lips with great care and scurried into the undergrowth.
Paranoia crept into the back of Shinji’s mind and he scanned the area to see brilliant green eyes hovering in the shadows. A panther was stalking him, but the predator blinked and disappeared. He reached a rocky outcrop and the scent of eucalyptus over a province built within the woodland, where sloping red-tile rooftops led to the city center and a large Buddhist temple. Fires raised on covered lanterns lined the main road, and watchmen patrolled the early morning shift as the new day melted the clouds into nothing and dissipated into a fine mist that hovered above the city like a ghost.
* * * * *
He greeted the guards at the Governor’s estate with casual nods and walked up the cobblestone street. He could have entered the Daimyo’s home without being seen, but such was a disrespectful gesture to civility. He bowed to the samurai at the inner-compound and asked if the Shogun was awake, knowing that Hideyoshi always rose with the Sun. The men nodded as they moved aside, telling Shinji that their lord was expecting him.
After passing ornate bronze gates, he entered an elaborate garden with trees exploding in the bloom of the season with a vibrant pink that was almost translucent. He crossed the walkway to the communal house where business was discussed with solemn attention. He left his cloth sandals at the rice-paper door and stepped onto the rattan matting.
The walls were lined with translated Confucian proverbs, brought from the mainland and written by a skilled hand that detailed the profession of delicate calligraphy. He went to the far end of the room, to the altar beset by ancient heirlooms of Hideyoshi’s family, and replaced the jade key to its rightful setting on a satin pillow. He heard the Daimyo enter the room behind him and turned with sight averted.
“I suspect that they refused to return it peacefully,” said Hideyoshi Murai, a benevolent ruler with a strong presence and generous eyes.
“Yes, my lord,” Onozawa replied.
The Shogun smiled. “You cannot be formal with someone you hope to protect with your life.”
“Pardon me, I don’t know the samurai way.”
“That’s because you’re not a samurai, though you have always served me to perfection.”
Shinji stood reluctantly and kept his eyes on the ground. “I honor the freedom you have given me. Without this place, I’d be homeless.”
“The spirit searches for a way to know itself. In peace it discovers the source, but in war it finds the truth. You look as if there is a question burning inside you.”
“It’s about the jade key. What does it open?”
“My father had it made for a specific treasure, a golden case. He never told me or my brother what was in it, but upon his death he split his kingdom in two. He gave me the key and my brother the case and divided his land between us.”
“So that’s why it was stolen...”
“I assume my brother Yoshimizu had those men find a place in my court since I am known for hiring bodyguards. He tried to exploit my kindness by having them betray me, but luckily I know one ninja who still has a faithful heart.”
Onozawa bowed. “Thank you, my lord.”
The Daimyo touched his shoulder. “I will need you in the upcoming war. My brother has chosen to obsess about the key. After he discovers that his dishonorable attempt to steal it has failed, I have no doubt that he will form an army to ride against us. When that day arrives, I want you with my cavalry.”
“They will not like riding with someone who isn’t samurai.”
“But they will be humble to my wishes.”
“If your brother would prefer civil war, it must have been a serious argument that caused this dissonance.”
“Yoshimizu has always been greedy,” replied the Shogun. “As the elder brother, he believes that the entire region should be his alone. He’s so blinded by this desire that he sends his soldiers to unlock the mystery our father left behind.”
“So why aren’t you as anxious to open the golden case?”
“Because I already found my treasure. A piece of myself died with my wife, but a piece of her lives on in my daughters. Through them, I cherish her.”
“And nothing your father could have left in his desire to unite his bickering sons would change your love for your children?”
“Yes.”
“This is an admirable trait, I think.”
The Daimyo paused. “Shinji?”
“Yes?”
“Business is over for now. My daughters would love to see you. They are by the pond, if you wish. After your daily meditation, come back this evening and we’ll speak about defending my people. And thank you for returning the key, it is the last remaining heirloom I have of my father. So much of our history has been lost to thieves, I dread to think about what I will leave behind. Now go see my daughters, they adore you.”
“I understand what it means to you, but if it would save your samurai from a needless battle, I can’t see why simply letting Yoshimizu have it wouldn’t be the best course of action.”
“I might be an admirable man,” replied the Shogun. “But I never said I was a pushover.”
* * * * *
Onozawa stepped lightly into a secluded area of the compound, following the fork in the path that crossed beneath sloped awnings and the light blue sky. He walked by wandering peacocks who called the garden home and heard giggling beyond rows of perfectly-trimmed bushes, where the Governor often took meditative walks near a shrine built to worship the memory of his wife. He crossed the wooden bridge that stretched over a branch of the pond, near the slender body of a white crane that portrayed a kind of divine elegance.
As the bloom of white petals floated on the wind, he saw a little girl crouching over the pond and walked up behind her to see what she was looking at. “I heard you coming,” she told him. “You’re not a very good ninja.”
“I only sneak when I have to, Lotus. What are you staring at?”
“One of the goldfish died this morning.”
“Are you sad for it?”
“I think it was lucky to have been able to grow so big in the first place, or birds would have eaten it,” said Yukio. “I respect it enough not to eat it, though.”
He sat next to her as they scanned the dark waters. “I agree. You’re not supposed to eat your pets.”
“I know!??
? she laughed. “That’s what I told the watchman who helped me pick it out and bury it, but samurai have no sense of humor.” Onozawa chuckled under his breath. “I’m glad that you got back so quickly,” she said. “You’ll have to leave again soon if there’s going to be a war.”
“People talk about such things in front of you?”
She leaned close and whispered, “They don’t know I’m there, I sneak very well.”
“So what do you know about war, Lotus?”
“It’s why I don’t have any friends. All the boys spend their time training to be warriors, so when they play with girls they play too rough. They should know that women are as delicate as origami.”
“Not all women are fragile,” Shinji protested.
“Yes they are,” Yukio insisted. “So are men, but they hide it.”
“That’s because men show their strength in warfare, and women hide their strength in dignity.”
“What’s dignity?” she asked with her big, curious eyes.
“It’s when someone traverses the darkness and becomes stronger for it.”
“I was sad when I found the dead goldfish, but I wasn’t that attached to him. Not enough to mourn, I guess. I visit my mom’s shrine a lot because I want to hear her voice.”
“And does she ever speak to you?”
“I don’t know. I feel something when I’m there but I can’t explain it.”
“Me too.”
“Do you think we survive beyond death?”
He squeezed her chipmunk-cheeks. “Our ancestors live on inside us, it is simply what we are. You have to quiet your heart to listen, because not everyone who wishes to communicate with you can yell.”
Yukio grabbed a handful of water and splashed his face. “I think you’re crazy, but you always make me feel better.”
Shinji handed her a small box from his pocket. “I found this in the forest.”
She brightened as she opened the wooden container and saw a huge beetle with a horn protruding from its nose. Her eyes lit up and she giggled when he set it on her palm.
“I thought you’d be interested in him, I know how much you like bugs.”
“I am! This is much better than that worm you brought me.”
“I was trying to make a point,” he said. “Caterpillars change into butterflies when they mature, just like you will.”
“Are you calling me a worm?” she said with a smirk. “Even if you’re lying about the butterfly, it’s a sweet thing to say.”
“If I find you another one, you can watch them wrestle.”
“Why would they do that?” she asked, touching the reflective black armor of the rhinoceros beetle.
“They fight over women.”
“Boys fight about everything, don’t you?” She saw her elder sibling picking flowers in the distance. “You didn’t have to fight to win my sister.”
“That’s because she chose me. It’s the rarest opportunity in life to be chosen.”
Yukio rolled her eyes. “Okay, you can go smooch with my sister now, but you have to see me again before you leave.” She kissed him on the cheek and ran off cradling the beetle.
Onozawa followed the pond while watching Rumiko smell the flowers, oblivious to all but her apparent task. She walked through the shrubs into a maze of lush greenery, and smiled before she saw him behind her.
“You’re back from my father’s mission.”
“Now that time I was trying to sneak,” said Shinji. “How did you know?”
“I could smell you,” she said, bringing a flower to her nose and winking at him with her enchanting dark eyes.
“What do I smell like?” he wondered.
“A man...”
“An extraordinary one, I hope.”
Rumiko dropped her bundle of flowers and stood on her toes to kiss him. “You shouldn’t spoil my sister so much, she already has a crush on you.”
“I want to help her find herself,” he said, wrapping his arms around the Princess.
“Then you’ll have to live long enough to see her grow up.”
“Is that what you were meditating about?”
“You know my habits better than I thought,” she shrugged.
“Perhaps you just pick more flowers than you realize.”
She put her hands against his chest. “I’ve spoken with my father about the war. Apparently he will be meeting with his messengers soon to collect edicts of loyalty from surrounding provinces. I don’t know any better than he does what is in that golden case, but it isn’t worth losing you or seeing my people die for politics.”
“I think your father broods about honor.”
“And I think he fights to honor himself,” she said. “There is such a thing as too much pride, you know.”
“You’re not talking to a samurai.”
“That’s why I can’t risk losing you to arrogance.” Footsteps nearby prompted Rumiko to grab his hand and pull him behind the overhanging leaves of a willow tree.
“It’s just the watchmen,” he said.
She pulled the elaborate pin holding her hair in a bundle and her mane fell in graceful black waves down her shoulders, setting off the lighter shades of her kimono. “I know, but I like the game.”
He studied her porcelain cheek. “You’ve got the makings of a ninja.”
“Don’t tell anyone or I’ll be banished.” She lightly ran her fingers along the bump in his throat. “I wasn’t just thinking about the war.”
Onozawa tightened his grip and leaned forward, languidly dipping her as if they danced to an unheard melody. She rolled her head and her majestic hair cascaded around her beautiful face.
“I love it when you do that,” she said. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t,” he promised.
* * * * *
By mid-day, the Sun was shining clear across the cloudless sky and birds chirped their territorial songs. Shinji left the Governor’s compound through the unwieldy bronze gates and walked into the crowds squeezing through the marketplace. Farmers guided horsedrawn carts stacked with food to trade, and infantry soldiers brought their kids through the capitol to pleasant places beyond the city. When the time for war came, they sought the serenity of nature for the happiness of their children.
On his way to the Buddhist temple, Onozawa crossed paths with nobles in casual robes, who gave him begrudging looks of respect buried under the shame of his career. He returned the stares of the samurai and read the focus of their minds like a language on their faces. They all knew what he contributed to the Shogun, but what he was could only be defined as ‘the enemy who stabs you in the back.’
Though his job was to protect the Governor who guided their fates, he was certain that the elitists would never let a ninja ride with them into battle, despite what Hideyoshi ordered. The civilized world wanted to put everything in the open, even if what was most important could never be seen.
Shinji took a road not cluttered with pedestrians and walked up a hill into seclusion. Where the foliage pulled back around a statue of the Buddha, the outdoor temple was empty except for a seated monk who was subverting his thoughts with determination that transcended material existence.
Onozawa joined him in meditation with the noise of the living pulse and let his senses flow through him. He was unfocused due to his occupation, and his mind worked itself ragged creating boundaries to define the world with relative efficiency. To do it correctly, a person could crush rock with their fists, and to fail created an injury that would never completely heal.
The chirping birds went quiet and Shinji felt his substance fade into water. His mind opened and he could see in all directions, as if vision was no longer a product of his eyes. He saw wandering ronin dressed in dented armor and tattered clothes in the presence of the enemy Shogun, Yoshimizu Murai. They handed him the jade key to open the golden case before a burst of light enveloped them.
A panthe
r’s glimmering white fangs snapped Onozawa awake. With the afternoon drifting into dusk, the dimming of daytime meant that he was going to be late for Hideyoshi’s meeting.
* * * * *
He approached the bronze gates and dozens of samurai overflowing the courtyard. It seemed that every landlord in the province was meeting to discuss the upcoming war. After the guards let him in, Shinji made his way across the lantern-lit walkway behind a large group of nobles outside Hideyoshi’s private library. The Daimyo sat in front of the landholders of his territory, who were delving in respectful conversation about his decision to collect an army.
A man near the Shogun, who was the most powerful General in the region, had been trained to be a samurai since he was first able to walk. Katsushiro Satsuma pulled at his goatee while he ruminated. As the second wealthiest man in the province, he spoke openly. “What is this rumor of a key and your father’s inheritance?”
Hideyoshi knew that the question would eventually come, and soft rambling filled the nobles who would never have deigned to ask their retainer of his motives. Onozawa leaned against the support beams of the nearby sanctum and let the shadows drift around him. The Daimyo stated that they had to rise up against the invading force or everyone would perish under the ruthless greed of Yoshimizu.
“Whatever my brother wishes to find in the golden case is not contained within it. There is no treasure too significant for words or a secret capable of blinding us to the brutality of this world. Yoshimizu is obsessed with the mystery, and to quench his curiosity he seeks to ravage our society. Even though he is older, I knew my father better, and nothing in that case is worth the grandeur of going to war. He simply wants more than what he has, and because he is the elder sibling, he believes he has the right to take it. His arrogance is not harmonious to the happiness of my people, so I have called you here to decide for yourselves. Do you wish for a ruler who will not respect your lives?”
The nobles erupted with denials of the enemy’s claim to power, showing gratitude to the Shogun for his infinite generosity and the freedom they were allowed under his rule. “What will happen to my family if I should perish in this war?” Katsushiro asked directly.
“I will personally adopt them as my own and they will be looked after with utmost concern. I will also hand over plots of the countryside that no one but a Governor has ever truly controlled. Any vassal who fights for me and survives will be granted ownership of the land he tends.”