PART ONE
WARNING: (Since they put these on movies now, I figured I'd best put it on this.) PARTS OF THIS STORY MAY BE PAINFUL FOR 9-11/MURRAH BOMBING SUVIVORS OR FAMILIES OF VICTIMS.
This is cartoon based. It's an intense character exploration that came to me when I had a revelation - that Hamato Yoshi lived a lifetime before he ever came to America. There's some reference to the events in the first movie, but it's not the basis so don't take it too literally.
Anyhow, enjoy.
PROLOGUE
April 3, 1974
HAMATO YOSHI:
I leaned forward on the table, my head hung between my shoulder blades. Tears pooled in the corners of my eyes, though I willed them away. I knew I did not have very long here; for they would surely search for me at my own house first. If they found me, they very well might kill me. My banishment from the foot clan was not enough for Takahashi-sensei's students, who did not take kindly to threats against their teacher. Anything I could say in my defense was lost in the commotion that anger and confusion created.
"Sensei?"
I turned toward the man in the doorway. He was taller than I, and much younger. He had yet to reach the age of twenty, and had only been my student for a short while. "Ohayo Hiroshi," I whispered, looking away again. He had heard rumors of the morning's events, but had not been at the ryu earlier. The rumors prodded him to come to my house, but I was still unsure as to how I would explain what had happen to my newest, and perhaps less trusting student.
"Are you not well?" he questioned, his face lined with concern. "You look distressed."
"Hai," I whispered. "Hiroshi-san, I am distressed."
He stepped into the room. "What troubles you?"
I breathed deeply. My stomach churned in sickening realization of what was happening. It was too much to accept all at once. A part of me recognized that my life was going to change drastically. But to a much larger part of my being, such a thing seemed strangely impossible.
A knock at the front door brought my thoughts to a close. I tensed. Surely they could not be here yet. I had counted on an hour of safety at least. Then, I did not know where I would go. To the streets, perhaps. And yet I knew that I would never be safe in Japan. I would never be totally safe, anywhere in the world. But certainly not in my own country.
"Hiroshi-san, would you please answer that?" I directed.
He bowed politely, and backed out of the room. I stayed frozen still, waiting for indication of who was calling on me. I had plenty of escape routes from this room, but I did not want to run if there was no danger. I heard the door open, and conversation was exchanged in muffled, but not threatening tones. I opened the door slightly, and saw shadows against the wall. "Go-sensei wa irasshaimasu ka?"
I closed my eyes and exhaled a full breath of air. I knew his voice, and I could only imagine what he wanted. "Hai, imasu."
I stepped back from the door, and my eyes ran over the contents of the room. I walked to the dresser, to a carefully placed set of nunchakus. Surely he would not come to my house to challenge me, but I did not wish to take the risk.
The door opened again, and Hiroshi bowed. "Okoku Saki-san is here to see you," he informed. I nodded slightly. "He wishes to speak with you alone."
I nodded again, in approval. "Show him in," I guided. "But do not leave the house; I must speak with you."
"Hai, Sensei."
He backed away, and I faced the door as another familiar figure stepped into the gap. "You wear your weapons around your neck?" he laughed, nodding toward the nunchaku over my shoulders. The chain was cold against the back of my neck, and either handle was easily accessible.
"I pose no threat to you, so long as you come in peace," I warned.
He laughed. "Yoshi-san, you are a fool. If I wished to kill you, you would be dead."
"What do you want from me, Oroku-san?" I demanded, anger washing over me. "You have disgraced my name and destroyed my life, what more could you hope to gain?"
He considered that for a moment. "Why, Yoshi, you speak as if you have nothing more to give," he chuckled.
"Would you steal the breath from my lungs?" I challenged. "You shame my reputation and send me away with nothing; what more do I have that you want?"
An evil smile answered me. He remained silent for a moment, and turned to the window. "Do you know, I have spent years under you. Under your authority, and your rules, and your teaching, all the while knowing that someday..." He turned back to me and I tensed instinctively. "... one of us would be forced to destroy the other."
I stared at the man who had betrayed me. What more did he want? In a few hours, I would be alone, homeless, fleeing for my life. We would never meet again. Surely he did not think I would try to challenge his leadership! Though it burned the depths of my soul to think that he would assume control of my students, I knew that I would never regain my position, whether or not I removed Oroku Saki. What could he possibly hope to gain from a battle? I choked back the desire to relent: to give him the battle he asked for, and take his life. Every fiber of my being wanted to end his existence at this very moment, to destroy him as he had destroyed me.
"I do not wish to fight you, Saki," I informed. "You have gained total control of the foot clan. Let that satisfy your hunger for power. Let me be."
"I will not."
Anger boiled in my blood, surging through my veins with vicious hunger. Though I could never reassume my role as shido-shin of the foot clan, I could certainly end his stay in my rightful position. I forced the fury into submission, but I could still hear it taint my voice. "You will never rest, will you?" I snapped. "You will never be satisfied for as long as you know I can still beat you!"
"You can not," Saki challenged.
"I will not," I corrected him. "But I have proven time and time again that I am perfectly capable."
He laughed. "Oh, Yoshi, who are you fooling?" he chuckled, patronizing me. "Your age is showing. How do you think I was able to beat you in the first place?"
"You never beat me," I reminded him, "unless I allowed it. Every form and maneuver you know, you have learned from me. And you would never defeat me in a real battle."
He shook his head slightly. "The will of a stubborn child," he patronized, "but the body of an old man." I glared at him. "You may well run now. I cannot force you to fight. But is it not more honorable to stand your ground now, and die with some small part of your dignity intact, than to run and be hunted like an animal by my foot clan?"
The threat meant nothing to me. The insinuation meant nothing. This man knew nothing of honor. However, if he saw fit to threaten me, perhaps it would be wise to put the issue into perspective. "If I were to focus my attention on another student, Oroku Saki... even at my age... I could teach him in my remaining years all that he would need to know to defeat you and every student you would ever teach."
He considered that, and anger flashed in his eyes as he realized that the threat was valid. I knew he would not admit his realization, but he could not hide it. "You are wrong, Yoshi," Saki growled, stepping closer. "And I will prove it to you, and to your students, and to your children, and to everyone you may someday hold dear to you." I glared at him, ready to strike if he moved. "Hear me now, Hamato Yoshi," he whispered threateningly, "I will not be mocked."
I pulled the weapon from my neck and held it firmly. The threat to him was obvious, and he stepped back. "Get out of my house," I ordered. "You are not welcome here."