Historical+Fiction

Bringing the wooden bladed bokken sword down on the padded wooden post the young Hideaki cannot help but ponder the reason for the hard work. "High guard!" the instructor Katashi shouts at his only pupil. Hideaki still new to the procedure of combat inadvertently holds his blade flat above his head. "No!" Katashi approaches sending small waves of nausea through Hideaki as usually when his instructor approaches he strikes him. As the older man approaches Hideaki gets a good look at his mentor: about mid 30s, prematurely balding (no doubt due to the training of young children of about 3 to 6 years), with no great facial blemishes or imperfections. "When blocking an attack from above always slant the blade to deflect the strike." As Katashi takes the carved piece of wood from the hands of Hideaki, and demonstrates the proper technique angling the blade above his head in a position that looked quite awkward to hold. "Now do it!" Katashi shouts thrusting the sword toward his pupil hitting him square in the ribs, and effectively putting him on the ground. The three-year old little boy crumpling under the sting of the thick wooden blade, then rising and trying the move one more time, this time tilting the blade toward his right side with the handle on the left. Without warning Katashi ran at him shouting for him to hold his stance, and within seconds the master struck the sword above the young child's head. The impact was jarring for young Hideaki but the blade held, no more than held--his master's bokken had slid off his as though his were made of ice.

Now at the Time of High-Sun lunch awaited young Hideaki. A small meal consisting of plain rice, with river water that Hideaki found to be lacking. Hideaki grabs his chopsticks, and eats with such speed it's as though he's simply inhaling his lunch. The lunch is eaten in silence, and lasts less than a half-hour. After the short-lived lunch period it's back to the tedious, and brutal training where Hideaki works constantly at perfecting his technique, and Katashi simply yells more strokes, and commands for his young pupil to obey mindlessly.

"Draw weapon!" Katashi yells in his booming voice. Hideaki's response is swift, and instant after two long years of doing the same tedious draw movement: gripping the handle firmly, drawing slightly at first to allow a smoother movement later, and finally bringing the bokken down to point ground-ward in front of him with one hand gripping the hilt, and the other resting on it by the heel of the palm.

"Killing blow!" The order like a crack of thunder as his mentor eyes Hideaki's every move as the apprentice swings the somewhat heavy piece of wood using his gripping hand for all motion, and his resting hand as a brace for the impact to drive the "blade" deeper into the "enemy". The strike connects with the would-be ribs of the wooden post used as a training dummy the impact resonating through Hideaki causing him to drop the blade, and fall onto the floor in agony.

"That was sloppy even for you Hideaki!" Katashi approaches the student this time with disappointment in his eyes, and helps the young boy stand up.

"I'm sorry master." Hideaki replies unable to hold the tears in

"Hideaki this training is simple your still using the bokken, and your almost 6 years old now that means soon I'll no longer be your teacher. Very soon you'll have to begin using the actual swords which are even heavier than this little stick." Katashi picks up the bokken effortlessly, and sets it next to the young boy sitting in front of him.

"Master Katashi I can't go on I'm still too weak, and inexperienced. The samurai way is not for me." Hideaki says gaining some confidence in his voice.

"Boy listen! Your parents have chosen this route for you, and by disregarding their wishes you are disgracing them as well as yourself. Disgrace is something that follows one through life. Did you know your own father may have to give in to Hara-Kiri over his failure with his son?" Katashi lectures, his voice gaining in firmness.

"It isn't a disgrace to have a free mind!" Hideaki argues clenching his fists against the ground

"It is a disgrace to not honor your parents' wishes! Hideaki what would happen at home if you disobeyed your father?" Katashi begins sitting with the young boy

"I'd get beaten into submission, but I'm not even of the right body type to be a samurai. I'm small, lanky, and built no thicker than the twig of a tree." Hideaki buries his face in his hands attempting to hide his tearful shame.

"Build means nothing to a properly trained samurai. I've seen boys thinner than you go on to be grand samurai masters. Hideaki anyone can be a samurai with proper training." Katashi stands up, and walks away regretting his own decision in life.

"Master I'm formally giving up the traditional samurai way. My way is built with hiding in the shadows. I'm going to try to be a spy for the Emperor himself." Hideaki mimics his master, and stands walking toward the exit of the dojo.

"Hideaki, any choice you make this day with have repercussions on your family have no doubt of that in your mind. I will not be trying to stop you." Katashi opens the dojo door. "Choose wisely."

With no hesitation Hideaki walks out of the dojo silently vowing a painful death before a return to the samurai way leaving Katashi praying for the young boy to find his way. As he wanders away Hideaki can only wonder where to go next, and how a boy with nothing to his name could ever get in the good graces of the Emperor. At that moment young Hideaki became an orphan, discarding his family name and taking on the new identity of Hitori. Subconsciously he decides against giving himself an area of origin lest he be sent back to an unsuspecting family.

Now on the road without any sense of direction young Hitori sets out on a journey of a lifetime.