by Ryan Kirk
So much for comfort.
Shigeru wasn’t quite finished. “While these men did attack us, you always have a choice. You could have let them kill you. I don’t want to ever see you hide behind false justifications. You always have a choice. Today you made one.”
Ryuu knelt in the gathering snow, attempting to make sense of it all. In time, Ryuu’s forces of habit took over and he cleaned his blade and sheathed it. He stood up and Shigeru led him towards an abandoned cabin for the night. Ryuu was completely inside himself and if not for Shigeru’s guidance would have been lost and unaware. He could have been beaten by a child with a kitchen knife. Shigeru got them both inside as the storm picked up in intensity.
While Ryuu recovered, Shigeru found an old and dry wood pile and built up a small, warm fire they sat next to. Shigeru sat silently, offering his company as Ryuu came to terms with what he was capable of. Ryuu had always dreamed of being a strong warrior, but in the company of Shigeru, he hadn’t realized just how strong he had become. Until today, it had been an academic exercise to see who he could beat by trying to sense their strength. He had no idea he’d become so strong he could kill four men without breaking a sweat.
Ryuu forced himself to remember the cuts he had made to bring down each opponent. He walked through every move again. His moves had been almost perfect. But as the memories of combat ran through his mind they began to twist and darken until the images of his victims blended with the red nightmares of his mother, and he felt like he was going to throw up again. Was he any better than the men that had murdered his mother?
As the fire began to die down, Shigeru spoke, breaking his long silence. “Today is an important day. I had hoped it would come later, in another cycle or two, but fate has decreed. Do you remember when we first met and I brought you home? Do you remember the offer of a real home, a last name?”
Ryuu nodded. He remembered every day with Shigeru. There had been many days when he had wished he had chosen the other path, but on the whole he thought he had made the right choice.
“Tonight I offer you the same choice again. If you like, I can introduce you to a family as a new member. They would accept you, share their last name. You would be a farmer. It would be a hard life, but it would be honest labor and you would have a family. This choice is always offered on the day a pupil learns the consequences of their violence. I think now you realize the full extent of what your training will make you. You can stay with me and continue your training, or you can go on to a new life. The choice will be yours to make by morning.”
Ryuu looked at Shigeru. “What do you think I should do?”
“It’s not for me to say, boy. I must remain as neutral as possible, so the decision is yours and yours alone. You are the one who has to live with it.”
Ryuu nodded, and Shigeru turned in. Ryuu threw another couple of logs on the fire and let his thoughts wander. He was torn in half. He didn’t want to be anything like the men who murdered his parents, and a part of him yearned for the life of a farmer. But Shigeru was family too even if he didn’t recognize it. He had protected Ryuu, brought him up as his own. He had given everything to train Ryuu. The cycles had been hard, but Shigeru had never lied about the challenges. Farming would seem easy by comparison.
This decision was about him though. He didn’t want to be somebody he wasn’t just because he felt like he owed it to Shigeru. No, this decision had to be about what he wanted.
He was a murderer now. When he had ended the lives of four men, he had murdered. He tried to imagine himself as a gardener, trying to grow new life. Was he even worthy? How could he justify growing life if he had already made a choice to take it? Perhaps he would bring bad luck to the farmer willing to take him in, the plants would sense the blood on his hands and wilt and die.
Then there was Takako, searing into his memory. There were people who needed protecting. It would make him a murderer, but was it worth it? With his strength he could save her and all those like her. He was strong. If anyone could save her from her fate it would be him. She didn’t have anyone else. The price was high, but training with Shigeru gave him the ability to make the world better for others.
The image of his mother’s face flashed across his memory again, settling in to stay. Ryuu felt the familiar sensation of fear growing inside him, but suddenly became tired of the back-and-forth. It was time to decide. He needed to settle the nightmare of his parents’ death, and there was only one way he could think of to do so. He believed his mother would understand his choice, and when he thought about it, he believed she would be happy with it.
Ryuu crashed to sleep. He slept soundly. When he awoke there was no need to speak with Shigeru. There was never any need to speak with Shigeru. He knew. The two of them ate a quick breakfast and were on their way.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ryuu had managed to get underneath Takako’s skin. Despite her best efforts she couldn’t forget his visit and she couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. On one hand he was a ray of sunlight poking through the cloudy existence of Takako’s life. She would catch herself thinking of him and smiling, daydreaming of him while doing her chores. Try as she might, she couldn’t help herself.
She liked that Ryuu was a mystery. Everything else about her life felt preordained, but Ryuu had come from nowhere. Takako couldn’t shake the feeling he was different than he appeared. He dressed like the son of a lord who had lost his fortune, but he didn’t act like any of the men or boys who came into the house. He didn’t act entitled like the world owed him a favor. Most rich boys seemed to. He had also been surprised by her situation as if it had never occurred to him that not all prostitutes were volunteers. It was a rather refreshing level of naivete. He was also strong. He hadn’t acted like it, but Takako had learned to discern much about a person based on the way they wore clothes. Ryuu didn’t have an ounce of fat on his body. Rich boys always did. There was a secret to Ryuu, she just didn’t know what it could be.
Despite the secret, and maybe because of it, Takako found herself drawn to him in a way she hadn’t dared since her arrival at Madame’s house. He was a genuine and nice young man interested in talking to her without the pressures associated with sexual liaison. It had been apparent he didn’t know what he had been getting into, but he hid his obvious disappointment well. It had been pleasant conversing with him and watching him as he observed the world around him. He had a funny habit. When you talked to him he looked right at you, almost staring but not quite, but whenever you weren’t talking with him, his eyes would begin a slow wander around the room. She had noticed it early in their meeting and had tested her theory as their day had gone on. It was always true.
Even though her situation was inescapable there was still something about Ryuu that gave her hope. She knew it was foolish, but she enjoyed contemplating what a life outside Madame’s walls would be like. She didn’t believe Ryuu would save her from Akio, but he reminded her there was another life out there and it gave her hope. One time she tried to imagine Ryuu coming in and saving her with his decorative sword, but the thought saddened her. Takako suspected Madame’s guards would stomp Ryuu like a bug, probably without even drawing their swords. He seemed nice, and she didn’t want to see him getting hurt doing something foolish.
But he gave her a sense that not everything in life was meaningless. She had enjoyed her time in his company. She wondered if there was any chance of another visit from him, simply to break the monotonous dread she felt regarding her future. During his visit she had been able to focus on the present. For just a short afternoon she believed everything would be fine. It wasn’t much, but it was more than she had previously.
On the other hand, his positive influence in her life wasn’t always a good thing. One lesson she had first been taught by Madame was that hope was dangerous. It wasn’t until she met Ryuu she realized just how honest that lesson from Madame had been. Any time she began to hope she remembered there was no way out of her situation. He reminded her she wa
s innocent and there should have been a choice. Once her thoughts began running in that direction she would become more and more gloomy.
Daily she began to think about clever escapes. She considered faking her own death or even committing suicide. She dreamed up schemes to find the money to buy back her freedom, each one more ridiculous than the last. She would meticulously think through each of these plans, only to run up against some wall, some inescapable fact that prevented her from acting upon her dreams. Her responsibility to her family weighed on her mind even though she hadn’t heard a word from them since her arrival. The mere threat of violence against them was enough to motivate her to stay in place.
Every time she hit that wall, that inescapable fact, there was a moment she hated Ryuu for making her life more difficult. Resignation was easier than hope, less emotional. She thought about some of the older ladies in the house, how often their days off were spent intoxicated by the cheap wine Madame supplied for her girls. She understood now why those women chose that path. It was easier and less painful in the long run.
But then her mood would change and she realized that she still liked Ryuu, and it wasn’t his fault her life was as it was. If blame had to be placed it would be on her father, but Takako couldn’t bring herself hate her father, not even then. So instead she did as her nature directed her and strove to make the best out of her situation.
It took all her courage to go to Madame one afternoon to ask for permission to write to Ryuu.
Madame stared at her warily. Takako didn’t shrink from the attention.
“I’ve been worrying about the effect his visit had on you. Your mood has been much more unpredictable since his arrival.”
Takako didn’t say anything.
“Why?”
She had thought carefully about this. “It is good practice for me. But most importantly, it would make me happy.”
Takako had spent the past several days deciding how to defend her decision. There was no hope in lying to Madame. No one could. Madame frequently spoke about wanting to care for her women, wanting to keep them happy. Takako was betting it wasn’t all a lie.
But Madame had let Ryuu come in the first place, which meant there was something else going on as well. Takako was sure the money was good, but Takako was dangerous right now. All of her potential clients had dried up as soon as word of Nori’s request had spread. Letting any male near her was dangerous for the house.
No, there was something else, some threads Takako didn’t see. Whatever the case, she had rolled the dice. There had been no other option.
“Fine. But I expect to read all correspondence both ways.”
Takako had expected nothing less. “Thank you.”
So Takako wrote to Ryuu, keeping the first letter short and meaningless. She didn’t know if it would get to Ryuu and didn’t know if he would respond. Takako didn’t even know if Ryuu could read or write. She didn’t want to invest too much of herself into the letter if her plan backfired. When she looked over it, she almost wondered if it was too bland. Thank you for your visit, I enjoyed your company, I hope you will look us up the next time you are in town, hope that your journey back to the village was safe, et cetera. She worried that even if he could read he might consider it a polite thank you all customers received. In a small act of rebellion and freedom she kissed her signature on the page and gave it to Madame to be sent.
A full moon passed, and she did not hear back from Ryuu. Madame had cautioned her about getting her hopes up. Although the letter had been addressed to the village nearest where he lived, Madame mentioned in passing she wasn’t sure exactly where Shigeru was from and that he may not stop into town for a while to pick it up. She also wasn’t sure either Shigeru or Ryuu could read. This was all news to Takako. Although Madame wouldn’t speak about it, it was clear she knew more about Shigeru than she let on.
Takako’s high hopes began to plummet despite her best efforts at not investing herself in the letter. Ryuu wasn’t much, but he was the only thing she had. But maybe she had been wrong about that. After a while her natural optimism reasserted itself, but she knew even that dimmed a little every day.
Takako almost jumped for joy when she received a letter written in small, neat handwriting. The seal had been ripped open, but that had been the deal. Madame had made herself clear. Just as she was about to open the letter she stopped. Better to hold on to it. She set it aside in her room to treasure until that evening.
When the day’s work was done Takako prepared herself for bed and her last action of the day was to open Ryuu’s letter. His handwriting was dense as if every inch of paper was valuable to him. Takako read through the letter once quickly and then went back to read it, savoring every word. Then she read it through a third time. Like her letter to him it was full of meaningless discussion. There was a short description of one of his favorite places to relax, some details from his journey, and greetings and well-wishes from Shigeru.
Takako pondered the letter. Although there was a lot written there, she could tell almost nothing about Ryuu from the message. The tone was friendly, conversational, and kind, but she learned nothing meaningful about him. No hint of what his family did for a living, why he carried a sword, or even where he lived. Takako had to look up the village on a map. Even once she found the village, which was in the middle of nowhere, she had no idea where Ryuu lived relative to the village.
Frustrated, Takako decided she would try to use these letters to draw out the mysterious Ryuu. She fell asleep committed to replying the very next day. She fell to her task with ardor and the next day Takako watched as the daily messenger left carrying her letter among others.
The second response from Ryuu came more quickly than the first, just over a half-moon from the day she sent the message. She saw in Ryuu’s letter that he promised to stop by the village as often as possible to check for messages. He hoped it would decrease the necessary delay between contact.
Once again though the message didn’t reveal anything personal about Ryuu. He seemed to be an expert at deflecting any attention away from himself. He answered all of her questions about him in vague generalities and redirected the conversation back to her with his questions. Takako almost laughed at the pattern once she recognized it, but couldn’t bring herself to use the same tactics on him. She vowed to continue trying to draw him out of his shell while revealing herself naturally.
The messages continued throughout the rest of the winter season. Another meeting was arranged for the beginning of the snow melt, and Takako realized she had something to look forward to. Many of the ladies in the house commented on her positive demeanor, and she replied kindly to them all, believing that perhaps her fortunes had changed. If Ryuu was rich, perhaps he could buy her before Akio. It didn’t seem likely, but perhaps it was possible.
The snow couldn’t melt fast enough for Takako’s liking and at times Madame would remind Takako the snow melt also signaled the beginning of spring when Nori would bring his son to the house to buy her. Takako determined not to let the news bother her and fought to remain positive and look forward to Ryuu’s visit.
Finally, a letter came from Shigeru, which Madame let Takako read. It stated the two of them were to come four days hence and their hospitality would be much appreciated for the night. Takako continued to read the letter beyond the pertinent information, realizing Madame was charging an exorbitant fee for a night of conversation for Ryuu and a night for Shigeru. Takako didn’t realize Madame’s income was quite so high. It forced a new perspective on her.
The wait was interminable. The four days seemed to pass one extended breath at a time. Chores were difficult to focus on and complete and Madame frequently scolded her for her poor manners and behavior around the house. Takako found she couldn’t help it. The thought of being with Ryuu again, even if it was just to have a conversation, was so pleasing that daily tasks seemed monotonous and difficult to complete.
The day of Ryuu’s arrival was a bright and sunny spring d
ay. The snows had yet to melt which meant Takako had at least a moon or two of freedom left. She enjoyed being outside, the warmth of the sun not eliminating the cold but still melting snow. Despite the brief respite and the beautiful weather, Takako was anything but cheerful. She rarely blamed Madame for her problems, but she did today. Takako’s list of assigned chores was almost unbearable. She suspected Madame was assigning her so many chores on purpose, to remind her why she was here.
Takako wanted none of it. Her plan for the day had been to spend all day making herself look nice for Ryuu. Not seductive, just nice. She found herself wanting to impress him even if he was younger than her. He was hope, but Madame saw him as a distraction from her chores. Takako did sloppy work that morning, being ordered by Madame to try and try again until her areas were spotless.
Madame, realizing that there was no fighting the emotions of the young, relented and released her from her daily duties with a threat tomorrow would be worse. Takako was so overjoyed she almost hugged Madame before remembering herself and scampering back to her room. Time seemed to snap forward. Every moment which had gone by at a snail’s pace now seemed to fly by and Takako found herself pressed for time. The letter hadn’t specified what time they would arrive, but Takako guessed they would show up when the sun was high.
Her instincts proved to be right. Shigeru and Ryuu arrived at mid-day looking much fresher on this journey than last time. She greeted Ryuu warmly, and although he returned her greeting in kind, Takako thought there was a new hardness in him that hadn’t existed before, a new mask on top of the others. It fueled Takako’s curiosity. She needed to know who this young man was.
