I know that it has been like forever since my last update, and I apologize for the delay. I'm just finishing up my first year of college, so the workload is absurd at the moment. Almost done—about 3 weeks left. Anyway, sorry for the delay and here is finally another chapter which I hope all will enjoy. Please review!
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the wonderful work of Nobuhiro Watsuki.
LEGEND OF THE SAKABATOU
By: KiMitsukai
Chapter 6: Of Training and Remorse
I lay down on my large queen sized bed, soft, with fluffy golden sheets and comforter. It was good to be out of my house, away from my dad and Yuichi, I needed time away… time away to think and to train. This room was fit for nobility, something which I am not. I suddenly felt inadequate and unworthy of occupying such a room. It was too luxurious and grandiose for someone like me.
I curled up into a ball on the bed, hugging my knees to my chest. I couldn't get past the fact that I had taken life; the horrors against humanity I've committed. How could anyone ever love or respect me ever again? Tears started to fill my eyes and then fall down my cheeks; soon my body was shaking with my sobs. I kept seeing my victims in my mind's eye, and the blood, the wounds, and my unforgiving blade sliding through flesh.
I continued to cry, wondering if I could ever be redeemed in the eyes of God or my own. If there would ever be a day when I wouldn't feel so guilty, if I could ever be forgiven. But right now, I knew I was damned. There was no way my sins could be washed away so easily; my innocence was gone. My body continued to shake with my sobs. My cheeks were tear-stained and my eyes were red and puffy, but I didn't care.
The wound to my abdomen was killing me, the pain was indescribable. And the gash wound on my arm was pulsing with pain. I had never before experienced pain like this, but I felt I deserved it. How did soldiers get over the agony of taking life? I wondered. But then again, I am not a soldier, I had to remind myself.
Somewhere between my fits of crying and my guilty thoughts, I fell asleep. At some point during the night, Uncle Sano must have come into my room and placed me under the covers and kissed me goodnight. My dreams were filled with images of the battle outside the tavern between hitokiri of the Shinsengumi and the Patriots. I saw Kenshin fighting in slow-motion, his skill held me in awe. But then my dreams turned into a nightmare when the focus switched to me; taking out my sword and joining in on the killing. It was horrifying how at ease I looked in the battle, how my eyes seemed so full of hatred and concentration.
I awoke the next morning with an uneasy feeling, as if within me burned the fire of a killer. It would take a long time for me to come to terms with what I had done. As well as this uneasy feeling, I noticed that in my dreams I had felt something for Kenshin. Felt something very akin to love. I shook my head with a slight laugh, "It was only a dream." I said to reassure myself that those warm feelings meant nothing. Besides, he's my ancestor, so that means he's like family, in a way.
I threw the covers off me and climbed out of bed. Still in yesterday's clothes, I changed into a pair of spare clothes I had haphazardly packed into a backpack. Now, standing before a wall mirror, I was wearing two beater-like tank-tops, one of white and a light green one over that, and a pair of vintage wash, just above the knee, shorts, and white ankle socks and Nikes. Seeing my reflection in the mirror, I couldn't even meet my own eyes as I brushed my auburn hair and pulled it back into a ponytail at the nape of my neck.
Putting the brush down on the dresser, I walked towards the large double doors to leave the room. I walked past the family portraits in the hallway and down the grand staircase and finally into the large dining hall. With a long wooden table that seats at least 20 people. On the table was a large centerpiece full of white and pink roses and two glowing candelabras. Sitting at the far end of the table was my uncle; I walked up to him and gave him a hug.
"Good morning Uncle Sano!"
Sano looked up from his newspaper and mug of coffee with a smile at the sight of me, "Morning my dear. Did you sleep well?"
I nodded and replied with only, "Yes, thanks."
I sat down in the chair on his left and a servant immediately came to take my order, poured me a glass of orange juice, and then left for the kitchen to tell the chef.
"Uncle Sano, are you going to be busy today?"
Sano flipped the page in his paper and looked up at me, taking off his reading glasses, he studied me. "No, I don't believe so. Why do you ask, Keiko?"
I shrugged and took a sip of my juice, "Well, I was wondering if we could start our training today. I'd really like to jump right into it."
Sano scanned me with his ultra observant eyes, "I see. Is there any particular reason why you want to dive into training all the sudden?" He narrowed his eyes at me, "Are you alright?"
I nodded, "I'm fine, perfectly fine." I lied. "I just feel out of practice and want to get back into training is all. Work on increasing my skill, you know?"
Sano nodded, "I can understand that." He studied her for a couple of minuets longer and then finally replied, "Alright. We'll start after you eat your breakfast and change into practice attire."
I smiled and nodded, "Thanks!"
I rushed through breakfast; racing through my scrambled eggs with ketchup and crispy bacon and washing it down with the tart orange juice. It was good, but I probably would've enjoyed it better had I slowed down. C'est la vie. Training is more important to me at the moment. Not only is training a good form of exercise, but is a release for me. It is a way to release my frustrations and anger in a controlled manner.
About 15 minuets later I was standing in my uncle's dojo detached from the rest of the house in the back of his estate. The floor was made up of a soft tatami mat, able to cushion your falls nicely so you don't get too injured while training. One wall of the dojo was completely mirrors and the opposite wall was made up of shoji doors that opened onto a courtyard. It was well-lit and airy, a good environment for training.
I stood at the far end of the dojo in my black hakama and white gi, the sakabatou gripped in my left hand. I heard the shoji door to my right slide open and I turned my head to see my uncle walk in, wearing the same uniform as me.
"Are you ready, Keiko?" He asked me, as he went to a back room to set his things down and grab a sword.
I nodded and turned to face him, my grip tightening on the sword, "I am."
I was surprised when I saw Uncle Sano walk back carrying a bamboo practice sword. I looked at him confused, holding up the sakabatou, "Uncle Sano, what's with the shinai? I thought we'd use katana?"
Sano shook his head, "Not today, Keiko."
I was started to get angry, "But why? For the last year we've only trained with katana. Why all the sudden the shinai?"
"I don't mean to insult you, Keiko. But, it has been awhile since we've last trained together, and shinai is better until you get more warmed up. Besides, I am your sensei, and I think we'll be using shinai. Is that a problem?"
He had switched to his dojo voice, I noticed. He no longer stood before me as my uncle, but as my teacher. I nodded, knowing he knew more and trusting him. "Alright."
I laid the Sakabatou down by the mirrors, out of the way. As I looked up, I reacted fast enough to catch a shinai he had tossed at me. I gripped the padded hilt in my left hand, my fingers clenching it tightly.
"Let's begin, shall we?" Sano asked.
"Indeed, let's." I answered.
Without another word, without another voice of instruction, the lesson had commenced. Sano flew towards Keiko with his shinai held high above his head in perfect form for a sharp attack. Keiko met his attack with a strong block, actually pushing her uncle back as she moved in for a counter-attack, which Sano did not move fast enough and the bamboo whacked into his side. His eye widened a bit, Keiko was not usually this aggressive. She was an aggressive fighter, but there had been a limit she had not passed. She appeared to be overcoming this limit.
Keiko spun around went for a quick attack at Sano's back, which Sano expertly blocked. The sparring continued for well over an hour, non-stop, but both still possessed an abundance of energy. Yelling out with a demanding ki, Keiko seemed to disappear right before Sano's eyes and reappeared from the air as she came down with a killer attack at Sano's right shoulder. Bamboo met flesh with a loud crack that echoed throughout the dojo. Sano's eyes went wide with the difficult technique she had mastered and the pain she had inflicted to his shoulder. She had gotten into the spar, and had completely lost herself in it, images from her fight in Boshin Era Japan played in her mind; and she was in the battle once more.
Sano fell to the ground, leaning on the hilt of his shinai. The top half of Keiko's shinai lay in splintered pieces around them. Keiko stood before her uncle, not even having broken a sweat. The arm that she had hurt was her uncle's sword arm, thus disarming him.
Sano looked up at her with awe-struck eyes, "Keiko, where did you learn that?"
"If I told you, you probably wouldn't believe me." She answered, and then held out her hand to help her uncle up.
Once standing, he rubbed his shoulder and popped it back into place. "I've never shown you a technique like that. That was the legendary Ryuu-Tsui-Sen. It's been said the last one to master that technique was the Battousai." Sano stared at his niece in complete confusion and awe. "Granted, your technique wasn't as polished as it should've been, but you actually did it."
"Are you okay, Uncle Sano? I didn't hurt you too badly?" I asked.
Sano shook his head, "No more than usual, Keiko. I'm fine." He waved off her concern. "Now, Keiko, I'm serious. Where did you learn this? 'Cause I sure as hell didn't teach you it."
My voice was caught in my throat. Uncle Sano really wanted to know, and I have trusted him for my whole life. I couldn't tell my father, or Yuichi, not even Julie, my best friend, but maybe I could tell Uncle Sano. He would be the most likely to understand me, and not berate me.
I looked into his eyes and he into mine. I didn't see anger in his eyes, just concern and a strong urgency to understand and know the truth. I wondered if I could trust him with this huge secret I have kept within. Is it too soon too speak of it? Would Uncle Sano in turn tell my father after hearing what I would tell him?
I stood looking at my uncle, considering what I would next say. I nodded, finally coming to my decision. I started to open my mouth to speak when all the sudden I was distracted…
That's it for now readers. Again, I am so sorry for the delay! Please let me know how well this story is being received. The more I hear from you, the reader, the more encouraged I feel to write more. ;) Thank you! Arigatou!