by R W Sowrider
Fortunately, the test of courage was interrupted.
Unfortunately, it was interrupted by the one person in the world that creeped Rowen out more than the faceless Jizo statues. Sean’s little sister, Fran.
“Can I play, too?”
To Rowen, the sound of her voice was like fingernails down a chalkboard. He couldn’t stand her. Her face always seemed to be either covered in dirt or boogers, she smelled funny, she was always trying to touch him, and she never stopped pestering them with questions.
“No.” Sean replied, dismissively.
“Why not?”
“No girls allowed,” Sean said. “And it’s time for training anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because we need to train to become samurai.”
“Why?”
“Because we need to protect Aizu.”
“From who?”
“From enemies.”
Sean and Rowen turned their backs on Fran and began walking back to Sean’s home.
“Okay, fine. You go train. I’m going to town get some rice cakes. Bye byyyyyyyyyyye, Rowen!”
***
Next, a year later, Rowen saw himself in the front row of a group of samurai’s children practicing kendo , the art of swordsmanship, at the local dojo .
The sensei was in the corner while young Sean led the session.
“Protect …” Sean called out.
“Aizu!” the class responded, swinging their shinai down and slicing their imaginary foes in half.
“That’s right,” the sensei said, sternly. “There is nothing in this world that is more noble, more righteous, or more heroic than protecting our beloved homeland.”
“Obey …” Sean said.
“Superiors,” the class responded, returning their shinai to attack position above their heads.
“That’s right,” the sensei said, stone-faced. “You must never disobey an order from a superior!”
“Protect …” Sean cried again.
“Tono ,” the class replied in unison, again striking imaginary death blows.
“That’s right,” the sensei said. “You must do anything and everything to protect our glorious leader.”
“Obey …” Sean repeated.
“Superiors!”
“That’s right. You must never disobey an order from a superior!”
“Kill …” Sean prompted.
“The Enemy!”
“That’s right. Live with honor and glory! Fight with honor and glory! Die with honor and glory!”
***
On the way home from a particularly vigorous session, Sean once again playfully teased Rowen about his fear of the Jizo statues.
“Rowen, you show great spirit at the dojo , but I can’t help but wonder if someone who’s afraid of a stone statue will be able to fight in an actual battle.”
“You know I will fight with honor and glory.”
“Well if that’s so, how about you show that spirit against Jizo?”
Rowen glared at Sean. “Fine. I’ll touch one of the statues. ”
“Touch?” Sean repeated, his lip curling. “If you’re really not afraid, how about you pee on one?”
“Pee on one?!” Rowen said in utter disbelief.
“That’s right. I double-dog dare you … Samurai.”
Rowen had had it. He walked right up to the middle statue, dropped trou, and peed all over its faceless face.
What young 9-year-old Rowen and still pretty young 14-year-old Rowen watching his life flash before his eyes were completely unaware of was that at this very moment, Jizo, watching from Verixion, was incensed. “Nobody but nobody pees on the Jizo!” he yelled to no one in particular.
While even some Gods may consider Jizo’s reaction extreme, Rowen’s stream of pee set in motion a civil war in Japan that would exterminate every last member of the Aizu clan and change the way of life that the Japanese people had lived up until then.
***
The next scene that flashed by was that of a randy rite of passage. One that most boys and girls eagerly await and never forget. His first kiss.
While it is true that Rowen would never forget it, it wasn’t due to lack of effort.
Rowen and Sean were horsing around with their shinai on Rowen’s veranda while Fran, in her usual role as third wheel, was playing with a couple of dolls nearby.
Sean knocked Rowen’s shinai out of his hands, sending it spinning across the veranda until it finally came to a stop just inches from Fran. The tip of the wooden sword was pointing right at her.
For reasons known only to Fran, her eyes lit up like she had just hit the lottery.
Rowen just shook his head at another bizarre Fran reaction, but as he bent down to pick up the shinai , she planted a huge wet one right on his lips .
Making matters worse, Rowen’s mother happened to witness the incident and never let him hear the end of it.
She gushed on and on about what a cute couple they were gonna make, what a beautiful bride Fran was gonna be, and how lovely it would be when they were married and had a family of their own.
The first time Rowen’s mother teased him about it, he felt the urge to end everything. Each time thereafter, that urge grew stronger and stronger.
***
The next scene that flashed through Rowen’s mind was of a heart-wrenching goodbye.
The clans of Japan had recently fractured into two contingents.
One side was loyal to the Tokugawa shogunate, the feudal military government that had presided over a proud, prosperous, and peaceful Japan for the last two plus centuries. They valued their beautiful traditional way of life and refused to let foreign barbarians force their way into the country and destroy Japanese culture.
The other side was bent on restoring political power to the emperor of Japan and opening the country to the West.
The Aizu were members of the Northern Alliance who of course remained loyal to the shogunate. They were proud to do their part to preserve their beloved culture.
Rowen saw his 12-year-old self standing outside his home watching as his father, dressed in his finest samurai robes, emerged from their home. He had a curved, single-edge sword known as a katana strapped to his belt and was holding another in his outstretched arms.
“Aizu is in your hands now, son,” he said, entrusting the shining sword to Rowen. “I have watched you grow and train, and I could not be more proud.”
Tears welled up in Rowen’s eyes, but he held them back with all his might.
“With a little more time, you too will be a full-fledged samurai and I want you to have this so that you too may defend our home and our country with great honor and glory.”
A wave of emotion crashed through Rowen’s every fiber. He felt a deep sense of pride as he accepted the katana as well as a deep sense of sadness knowing that his father was leaving, possibly for good.
“When the time comes, you must fight bravely, and if necessary, lay down your life. There are things much more important than self, and there is nothing more admirable than fighting with honor and glory for your country, for Tono, and for your family.”
Rowen was unable to utter even a single word in reply as he continued fighting back the tears.
His father, of course, sensed this and gave him a firm yet loving pat on the shoulder. “Goodbye, son.”
Rowen then watched his father march, with his head held high, down the entrance path, through the front gate, and off to fight for their homeland.
As his mother embraced him from behind, a torrent of tears rushed down Rowen’s cheeks.
***
In the next scene that flashed by, much like his father did two years prior, Rowen was marching out of town for battle.
The enemy was closing in and it was decided that the last lines of defense must go out to meet them.
Rowen was in a group of 20 sons of samurai known as the White Tiger Brigade. They were all supposedly 16 years old or over, but as Rowen had trained with them a
t the dojo for as long as he could remember, he knew that like him, many were just 14 or 15 .
Nevertheless, they were steely-eyed and kept their composure as they paraded down the main street while the women and children shouted words of encouragement.
Rowen could not help but feel afraid of what lay ahead, but he also felt a strong sense of pride as he gripped his katana tightly and smiled at Sean marching next to him. They had shaved the tops of their heads together that morning, and for the first time sported budding topknots above their baby faces.
In front of the White Tiger Brigade marched the other last line of defense, the Black Tortoise Brigade, which was comprised of Aizu’s last remaining adult males. Rowen and his cohorts had dubbed them the Gray Geezer Brigade because most of them were senior citizens in their 60s and 70s whose samurai hairstyles consisted of a few wisps of gray hair flapping in the wind on their naturally bald heads.
Nevertheless, both battalions marched with pride on their way to meet the oncoming enemy.
Like their sons and fathers, the women of Aizu maintained stoic faces as they cheered on Aizu’s last hope.
“Fight with honor and glory,” they cried. “There is nothing more heroic than dying for your country!”
It was only Fran who either was unable to put on a brave face or just didn’t want to.
“Come home safe, Sean!” she screamed, tears streaming down her face. “You too, Rowen! I don’t care what this is all about, the only thing that matters is that you two come back to us in one piece!”
***
In the next scene that flashed before Rowen’s eyes, it was dusk. He saw himself crouched next to Sean behind some shrubs in a sparsely wooded area between Aizu and Lake Sanban.
They could see the enemy on the other side of a clearing. At the forefront of their troops was a battalion of fearsome soldiers in full body armor who were sporting long, shaggy wigs of polar bear hair dyed blood red.
Rowen pissed his pants on sight.
“Is there a stream or something around here?” Sean asked.
“Huh?” Rowen replied, feigning ignorance.
“I swear I just heard the trickling sound of a stream or something.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t hear nothing. Anyway, those bastards outnumber us by like three to one. What are we gonna do?”
No sooner did the words leave Rowen’s mouth than did the Gray Geezer Brigade commence the attack, beginning a brief scuffle that would become known as the Battle of Aidayua.
Screams of “Protect Aizu!!!”, “Protect Tono !!!”, and “Die you Motherfuckers!!!” filled the air as the senior citizens charged, swords held high above their heads.
Sean and the rest of the White Tiger Brigade quickly followed suit.
Reluctantly, Rowen drew his beloved katana from its sheath, lifted it with both hands above his head, and charged with honor and glory.
Before they were even halfway to the enemy, the frightful blood-haired soldiers had drawn rifles and were firing upon them.
While one would have thought that Rowen’s bladder was running on empty after voiding at the sight of the fearsome enemy, a further torrent of urine ran down his leg at the sound of gunfire. Rowen had never even seen a rifle let alone been fired upon.
“Run Away!!!” a number of Aizu fighters screamed as their comrades began to fall like ducks in a row.
Amid the chaos, Rowen did his best to follow Sean and the rest of the White Tiger Brigade as they fled back into the woods and randomly scrambled up a winding path toward Iimori Hill.
***
It was here that Ebisu intervened.
In the form of a pot-bellied bunny with golden fur and floppy ears, the benevolent God led the White Tiger Brigade to an irrigation tunnel near the summit of Iimori Hill.
To the boys’ delight, not too far from the opening was a stockpile of rice, natto , and sake .
As such, they decided to fill their bellies, drown their defeat in booze, and sleep the night away with dreams of a more fruitful tomorrow.
***
The last scene to flash through Rowen’s mind led him back to the present.
The boys rose at dawn, exited the tunnel, and found themselves on what appeared to be hallowed ground as a little wooden shrine and a trio of Jizo statues stood on a small clearing overlooking Aizu.
To their horror, in the distance they could see their beloved hometown ablaze.
Fire was ravaging the local shops and rowhouses, rifle shots rang out, and worst of all, the castle, which was the heart and soul of the town, was engulfed in ominous black smoke.
The boys gasped at the harrowing sight. “Our beloved Aizu is on fire!” one cried.
Along with the overwhelming feelings of grief and despondence, Sean and Rowen were overcome with rage.
Rage at themselves for their impotence.
Rage at the enemy for destroying everything that they loved.
And rage at the Universe for allowing such a tragedy to occur.
“Fuck you, Jizo!” Sean screamed, giving the finger to the trio of Jizo statues.
As if on cue, Sean and Rowen marched over to the Jizo statues, dropped trou, and expressed their indignation and despair by soaking the treasonous statues in powerful torrents of urine.
“You’re supposed to protect us!” Sean wailed.
“How dare you allow our innocent families to be slaughtered!” Rowen roared. “I hate you!”
After the boys had emptied their bladders and said their peace, the White Tiger Brigade discussed in desperation what they should do.
“Our castle is burning down,” one of them sobbed. “The town, too.”
“This is the end,” another lamented. “The end of our castle. The end of Aizu. The end of us.”
“Rather than die by the hands of our enemy, let’s pray to the castle and end our lives with honor.”
It didn’t take long for everyone to agree and after holding hands and reciting a solemn Aizu prayer, the boys unsheathed their katana and daggers.
“Rowen,” Sean pleaded. “I can’t do it. I need you to do it for me.”
“What?!” Rowen replied in disbelief.
“I can’t do it, Rowen! I need your help.” Sean forced his katana into Rowen’s hands and knelt down before him.
Rowen couldn’t do anything but stare at the sword in shock.
“Rowen, I need you to do this for me. You have to be brave and do me this honor.”
Rowen continued to stare at the katana , dumbstruck.
A wave of calm washed over Sean and he gave Rowen a knowing smirk. “I double dog dare you … Samurai. ”
Rowen finally looked at his friend, tears welling in his eyes.
“Do it, Rowen! Please!!! Do it for me! DO IT!!!!!”
Rowen bit his lip, lifted Sean’s katana over his head, and as he swung it down with all his might, his own life flashed before his eyes.
***
At the precise moment that Rowen began his downswing, a gust of wind blown by Jizo altered the strike ever so slightly such that the sword was driven deep into Sean’s shoulder blade.
Falling back on his heels in great pain, but not mortally wounded, Sean glared at Rowen in exasperation. “Owwww, dude. What the fuck?!”
Jizo, giggling from near the wooden shrine, was pleased.
A wave of panic washed over Rowen and without thinking he regripped the katana , lifted it high above his head once again, and swung it down with all his might. This time, it was a clean strike.
Rowen averted his eyes as blood gushed from Sean’s throat and his life quickly left him.
Weeping violently, Rowen grabbed a dagger, knelt down next to his fallen comrade, and plunged it deep into his abdomen.
As he slumped to the ground, everything faded to black, until he finally saw the light.
Verixion IV
“Is the people’s champ finally back with us?” Delemor boomed as Rowen slowly came to on the floor of the resplendent cha
mber.
Through the mist, he could see the crocodile-faced Delemor smirking at him.
“What happened?” Rowen asked.
“You did it, buddy. You’re a folk hero!”
“Really?”
“Yeah. One of your tiggers survived that adorable mass suicide and told the world about your honorable demise. Way to not give in to the enemy and die with pride. Fantastic!”
Rowen couldn’t tell whether Delemor was being sarcastic, but decided to take his words at face value. “Wow. I guess that’s great.”
“Without a doubt. Your story even touched some very impressive future world leaders like Mussolini.”
“Who?”
“Never mind. Suffice it to say, your tale will be told in perpetuity.”
“Awesome.”
“Yeah. And you know what’s even better? You kids were wrong.”
“Wrong?”
“Yeah. The castle wasn’t even on fire.”
“What? That’s impossible. It was covered in smoke.”
“Yup. Smoke from nearby rowhouses that actually were on fire. Your precious Tono was alive and kicking in that phat hizzy.”
“Phat hizzy?”
“The castle, buddy. Try to stick with me. He was in the castle and they both were doing fine. Sure, he eventually surrendered, but both made it through with hardly a scratch on ’em.”
“Well … I guess that’s good, right?”
“Yeah, it added a little somethin’ somethin’. But you know what was really neat?”
“What?”
“Your moms all did the same thing.”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you think I mean, brain fart? I mean your moms all did the same thing. They gathered the little ones and rather than fall into enemy hands, everyone ritually disemboweled themselves. Well, I mean, first the moms ritually disemboweled the young ones – it would be too over the top if the little tykes were able to do it – but after that, the moms all ritually disemboweled themselves. Pretty great, right?”
“…”
“And the kicker is, no one’s ever gonna tell their tale. I’m not sure whether it’s not interesting enough or it’s kind of a bummer or what, but the bottom line is, you guys are the only ones going down in history. They’ll be singing the praises of the White Tiger Brigade, and only the White Tiger Brigade, forever. Pretty sweet, huh?”
