Written by Mamono

Samurai, literally meaning ‘one who serves.’ This title is only given to those who prove themselves to be mighty warriors, and thereafter, loyal servants. For a samurai cannot be a samurai without a master. A master usually provides their samurai with the essential needs for living, but this is at a small price – total servitude. It is expected that a samurai protects his master with his own life, and if he should fail certain . . . courses of action are expected of him.

But what happens when a samurai parts with his master? If such a case ever occurred, the warrior would now receive the title of ronin, or ‘person cast on the waves.’ The ronin wander the land, searching for odd jobs, anything to make ends meet. Most of these ‘jobs’ involve some sort of fighting; this tends to brand the ronin as ‘fighters for hire.’

The year is 1867, nearing the end of a bloody war for control over the country of Japan. The current ruler, Ieyasu Tokugawa, leads the Tokugawa Shogunate, a powerful bureaucracy that uses the samurai as their tools. In other words, Tokugawa is the master and most of the samurai are his tools. Some side with an imperialistic man called Meiji. Japan, under the rule of Tokugawa, is a very closed off country. They purposely isolate themselves in fear of ‘Westernization.’ Meiji, however, wants to open the doors of Japan and bring a new era to the country. Thus, the war began as well as our story.

The sun sank low, just underneath a thick layer of clouds, casting its rays across the city of Kyoto. Everything was quiet as a young man walked along the deserted streets. His name was Hatori Minamoto. His surname was quite important, being the same as that of the great samurai family from long ago. Fighting was in his blood; it’s what he did best.

Even when he was young, Hatori had always had an interest in swords. When he was only five years old, his father gave him his first wooden sword. The young boy would practice with it each and every day, vowing to become a great samurai like his father.

Hatori ran his fingers through his thick, sunburn bangs and let out a sigh. It had been an arduous journey through the mountains, but he had finally made it to the city. His azure-blue eyes scanned the area, looking for a place to relax. Now blue was an unusual color for eyes in Japan, but his mother had told him that it was because he had the spirit of a mighty dragon resting within him.

“Now that place seems welcoming,” he noted, spotting a large, homelike building a few feet ahead of him. He made his way into the building and was greeted by a young woman.

“Welcome, my name is Sakura Ryujin, and this is the Ryokan Inn,” she exclaimed with a smile. Hatori bowed slightly in respect and then followed her to a table. He sat down and she brought him some green tea; steam rose from the olive-colored liquid and then dissipated into the air. The woman hovered about Hatori for a moment before speaking up. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“No thank you,” he replied. The woman nodded and walked off. The room he was in was very homely, it was nothing too extravagant, but it made Hatori feel welcome nonetheless. Unlike Kyoto, the village he was in before was very dismal; it always seemed to be raining there. He only stayed because of some work being a guard for a rich land owner, anything for a little money in his pocket. Soon the job fell through and he was finally able to leave the dreary city, though, with less money than he would have hoped for.

Money seemed to be the only reason he kept wandering from place to place. There was never enough of it, for him at least. All of it was going toward funds for the war. Either the Tokugawa Shogunate was taking it or Meiji and his imperialist agencies. Whichever one was the cause, it was going fast.

“It took you long enough to get here,” came a voice from behind him. Hatori placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, the Murasume, a long, lithe blade that had protected him in many battles. He turned around to see a man with narrow, wolflike eyes staring down at him.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Hatori said. The other man sat leaned up against the wall and folded his arms together, maintaining his smug appearance.

“Hm, well, I guess introductions are in order then,” the man stated. “My name is Saito Kaeda, and you are Hatori Minamoto, am I right?”

Hatori narrowed his eyes; how did this man know his name? He didn’t recall being followed at anytime for a while now. What could he be up to? He let his hand drop from his sword and turned toward Saito. “Yes, you are indeed correct, but how is it that you know of me?”

“Let’s just say I have my sources,” Saito answered. “I have come to you today with a message from my captain.” He pulled a letter from his coat and handed it to Hatori. “He said it would be in your best interest to meet him at the square as soon as possible.”

Hatori opened the letter and started reading the text upon it. “Aku Soku Zan?” he read aloud in question. “What does that mean?”

“I think going to the square and finding out would be the most feasible course of action,” Saito suggested.He stood up and headed toward the door. “I hope you’re as adept as they say with your sword . . . For your sake.”

Saito gave a slight bow and left the room. Hatori glanced at the letter once more, trying to decipher its meaning, but to no avail. He stood up and headed out of the inn, making his way to the city square.

Apprehension seemed to surround him like a veil, it was insufferable not knowing what he was getting himself into. Every step he took through the dusty city streets echoed through his mind. Finally, he made it to the square. It was a large open area; a small pavilion was located at the center with benches surrounding it; cherry trees lined the edges of the square, beautiful pink blossomshung on the branches, signaling the arrival of spring. Leaning up against one of the trees was a young man, his hair was a dark brown, almost black, and his eyes were a beautiful mahogany.

“It’s so nice to see you, Hatori,” the young man said, his voice dripping with venom. He started walking toward Hatori. A malicious scowl was implanted on his face.

“Karasu,” Hatori growled. “What is it that you want from me, brother?” True, the man that stood before Hatori was his younger brother, but the term is used lightly.

“You shall address me as Karasu Taira, Captain of the Third Squad of the Shinsengumi,” Karasu snapped.

“So, you changed your last name, have you? Truly you hold no reverence for our family, especially by changing it to the surname of our enemy clan,” Hatori chided. In the past, the Taira family was mortal enemies of the Minamotos. The two had fought many battles, but in the end, the Minamoto family was the victors.

“Reverence? What would you, a person who abandons his family to become a penniless rÇnin, possibly know of reverence?”Karasu barked.

Hatori winced; Karasu’s words were like a thorn at his side. Yes, he had left his family, but it was for his own purposes.He pulled the letter from his shirt and threw it to Karasu, who caught it.

“What is the meaning of this?” Hatori implored. Karasu’s scowl turned into a vicious grin.

“Aku Soku Zan? Why it’s the Shinsengumi’s catch phrase, if you will. Slay evil immediately,” Karasu answered. He then drew his sword, the Marasame, brother sword to the Murasume, and charged Hatori. A piercing scream of metal hitting metal rang out through the air.

“Karasu!” Hatori shouted, struggling against the force of his brother’s attack. “Are you saying that I’m evil?”

“Anyone who leaves his family to die must be evil,” Karasu replied coldly. The boy’s mahogany eyes glistened in the moonlight. With a sudden burst of energy, he pushed Hatori to the ground.

“Karasu, I never left you on purpose, you know that!” Hatori pleaded. It had been long ago, but the scars were still fresh in Karasu’s heart. When Hatori was thirteen, the Shinsengumi had come to their village in attempts to draft as many men as they could into their ranks. He was chosen much to his family’s pride. His father was so happy that his son was going to be a true swordsman. Hatori, however, had never wanted to become a member of the Shinsengumi, he was afraid.

The day had finally come, and he left his family. Everyone cheered and waved as he left, he couldn’t possibly tell them he didn’t want to go. At first, things weren’t so bad. He was treated kindly and they taught him the way of the samurai. But after a while, things went downhill. They made him work till exhaustion, never giving him a chance to rest. Then they engaged in their first battle and he was expected to kill other people. He could never do a thing like that, especially at the age of thirteen. During the midst of the battle he ran away, never coming back to that terrible army.

After a while, his parents found out that he abandoned the Shinsengumi. They drafted Karasu to take his place, or at least that’s what he assumed. It was especially hard on his father, who thought that Hatori would be a great swordsman, to find out that his son was a failure. That’s why Hatori never went back. He couldn’t face his parents after what he had done.

“Get up,” Karasu ordered. Hatori picked himself off the ground and watched as his brother sheathed his sword.

“What’s this?” Hatori raised a brow at his brother’s behavior. Karasu stepped back with his left foot and kept his hand on the hilt of his sword. He crouched, glaring at Hatori like a tiger ready to strike.

“You know very well what it is,” Karasu answered.

Hatori grinned, taking the same stance. “It’s Battoujitsu, dear brother.”

“Yes, you’re right. I’m going to get my revenge using the very sword technique that father first taught you.”

Hatori smirked. Karasu knew that Battoujitsu, drawing the blade from the sheath to strike an opponent with great speed, was the technique that he was best at. Even though he had left the Shinsengumi, he had still worked on improving his sword skills. “Idon’t understand why it is that you want to get revenge, but if you feel you must, then so be it.”

Tension filled the air as the two brothers stared each other down. The cherry blossoms rustled in the wind and one drifted off its branch and into the air. As soon as it hit the ground the battle began. Karasu and Hatori both drew their swords and charged at the other. The first clash was a draw, but they each soon recovered and went back for more.

The battle waged on, sword hit sword, and blood was drawn. Neither one showed weakness to their adversary. Karasu dashed forward, thrusting his sword toward Hatori only to be blocked and tossed high into the air. He landed on the ground and skidded to halt near the pavilion at the center of the square. Not to leave himself open, he jumped to his feet just in time to block one of Hatori’s own thrusts. It continued this way for some time. They were totally equal.

Karasu staggered to his feet, gasping for breath. “You’re not as bad as I though you’d be.”

“Likewise,” Hatori answered.

“Why did you leave?” Karasu suddenly questioned.

“The Shinsengumi? Because I couldn’t bear to kill another person.”

Karasu looked at his brother in question, but he let him continue his explanation.

“Either way I wouldn’t have been able to come back to the family. Wouldn’t it have just been honorable to come back home a failure? Or if I had stayed, a killer? No, either way I was condemned to shame.”

Karasu frowned; he had never thought about it that way. Perhaps his brother had done the only thing he could. He knew he would never want to face his father in such a situation.

Before he could answer, seven men walked onto the scene, recognized by Karasu as Shinsengumi. The leader of the group walked up to them and raised his sword. “I am the leader of the First Squad of the Shinsengumi. You are Hatori Minamoto, am I correct?” Hatori nodded. “You are accused of treason against the Shinsengumi and will be punished accordingly.” Karasu gasped, spinning around toward the other man.“The punishment is death.”

“Stop this!” Karasu yelled.

“I was given specific orders by our master to eliminate this man,” the other man interrupted. “I suggest you stand down if you want to keep your position.”

The man charged the exhausted Hatori, aiming straight for the heart. Hatori cringed and prepared for impact, he was too tired to move. The man’s sword dug itself into flesh and a fresh crimson liquid tricked down to the ground. Hatori looked up in shock. Karasu stood in front of him, holding the bloodied sword. Then he did something unexpected. He started laughing.

“Hatori, get out of here. Go wallow in your shame. I’ll knock some sense into you another day.” Karasu wiped the blood from his mouth and pulled the sword from his chest.

“Karasu?” Hatori cried.

“Look,” Karasu replied, “I still don’t understand why you won’t come back home and I’m not going to let anyone kill you off until I figure that out.”

“But this could be considered treason!”

“That may be so, but standing back and watching someone kill your family is a worse crime.”

Hatori stood up, knocked the man in front of them to the ground, and looked back at Karasu. “Thank you, Karasu. I promise I’ll come back home when I find a way to bring pride to our family.”

“I look forward to that day.”

Hatori continued his life as a rÇnin, wandering around looking for honor. He found it with the imperialist army. He became a high-ranking officer in Meiji’s army and fought against the Tokugawa Shogunate. Karasu too ended up in Meiji’s army, working as a spy, after he was discharged from the Shinsengumi for letting Hatori escape. After a long battle, Tokugawa fell and the Meiji became emperor of Japan. All the samurai were finally able to put down their swords and peace rang over the land once more. Karasu and Hatori did finally return home, not in shame, but in honor.