The Mark of Jin - Episode 2

Episode II: The Vow

         The recovery that followed after Jin's encounter with the samurai demon was excruciating. His whole body was covered in too many cuts to count; it was a wonder how his flesh still managed to hold together. The arrow, still lodged in his shoulder, continued to prod and inflame tissue, and soon would cause an infection if left unattended for any longer. Requiring tools and a new top to wear, he scavenged tantō and a black shitagi from among the dead, then returned to the spring to tend to his wounds.
         He washed away the dirt and blood that covered him, then made an incision next to the arrow's entry wound with a Tantō, penetrating it along the arrow's shaft, until the blade dug deep benath the tip of the arrowhead, and attempted to pry it out. Just as he dreaded, it had lodged itself into bone; it took considerable concentration to apply all his strength, while the overwhelming pain caused his eyes to bulge, and his lungs to seize. Blood gushed from the wound, as more flesh was torn, until finally the arrow gave and was successfully freed from his body – if it had been a moment longer, he probably would have blacked out from the strain.
         When he finished washing for the second time, a section of the spring had been completely polluted with his blood. He felt extremely weak, but he managed to wobble to his feet, and made his way over to the nearby trees to extract sap from their trunks, using it as an improvised adhesive to seal his wounds. He then bandaged them using ripped cloth, covering almost the entirety of his torso, and bound it tightly as he could. It felt constricting, but he knew it was necessary to keep anything from being torn or exposed.
         It was still within the early hours of the day, but already he felt exhausted. Every inch of him throbbed with pain, while his limbs felt heavy and cumbersome, even the most subtle movement caused him to pant. His face was pale, and continued to profusely sweat; he felt like he could possibly faint at any moment, but he had to keep moving, regardless of how bad his condition was.
         He ventured west, back through the Haujutan Forest, hopeful that nothing else, at least for the time being, was pursuing him. The trek was slow and arduous – as was expected, but was made all the more difficult by the forest's uneven terrain of thick roots, rocks, and steep hills. He stumbled more times than he liked to admit, assuring himself with mocking encouragement that his body hadn't been punished enough.
         Although to his luck's credit, a few of his tumbles had inadvertently provided him with opportunities to scavenge for much needed nutrition, such as small insects and plants. It wasn't a delicacy he was particularly fond of, but as desperate as he was in his state, he wasn't going to be picky. To his surprise, however, he quickly acquired a taste for the plump forest beetles he picked from the surrounding foliage. Perhaps it was all influenced by his severe hunger, but there was something satisfying he felt whenever he crunched into their soft shelled bodies.
         The nights were restless, between the pain, the darkness, and the stench of blood that accompanied him. Sleep came infrequently, and it wasn't long until the deprivation muddled his sense of time, losing any distinction between the days that passed.
         Wariness returned as he ventured deeper into the forest. The noise of wildlife quieted, as if their domain had been disturbed, but Jin's concern was not of his surroundings, but of his thoughts, unable to refrain from going on a nostalgic trip that rekindled pleasant faces long seen.
         “Always such a prideful fool,” his older brother Hayate used to tease him with a faint smile.
         Ever since Jin and his brother were children, they were trained in the art of swordsmanship, kenjutsu, under the tutelage of their family friend and mentor, Master Satoshi. He always lived in his older brother's shadow – a prodigal child, who was smarter, wiser and more naturally skilled in everything they ever competed in. Even at a very early age he knew he would never surpass him in academics, but the art and discipline of swordsmanship presented itself as the opportunity he sought to claim as his own domain. Where his brother accumulated knowledge through scrolls and foreign textbooks, he applied the philosophies from his physical training to gain an understanding of the metaphysical world.
         By adolescence, Jin's conditioning allowed him to surpass his brother's physical strength, but it provided little leverage against his rival's agility and cunning. His brother proved to be a remarkably adaptable fighter, able to turn around any fight in his favour, relentlessly humiliating him every time they sparred. By the end of their matches, Jin was usually covered in bruises, and on rare occasions with broken or cracked bones, and Master Satoshi was always forced to intervene, berating his stubbornness to embrace the wisdom in defeat.
         For a long time he obsessed over defeating his brother, hating his amused stares directed towards him, always so confident and refined. He both resented and admired him, one of the few figures in his life he ever looked up to. It was easy for him to forget that he was only two years older than him because of his maturity, and the gap only seemed to broaden as they grew into adulthood.
         Even when Jin finally prevailed and bested him, he expected him to express the same anger and frustration he suffered through the years, relishing in his victory with utter satisfaction and fulfillment. But his brother only smiled in admiration, and bowed to him with genuine humbleness and respect. After all that he went through to achieve what he desired most, it ended up feeling hollow and pitiful – once again rightfully put in his place by his wiser and stronger sibling.
         “You always were a better man than I was...” Jin reflected out loud with his own faint smile.
         He recalled the words Master Satoshi would lecture to him: “Strength comes from the spirit and the discipline of the mind; you have much spirit young Kumazawa, but this uncontrollable rage will be your undoing.”
         Jin shook, struggling to hold back tears.
         How right he was.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

         The crimson sky reflected back into Jin's eyes. The castle stood before him, looming in shadow against the setting sun, as embers of war danced over the surrounding land like drifting leaves. The sound of clashing steel, raging fire and human screaming were like a captivating melody to his ears. The empire of Maeda burned – for too long he waited to see his enemies who betrayed and murdered his people suffer merciless retribution. The satisfaction was overwhelming; he wanted it to last forever. But it wasn't time to bask in his triumph yet, there was still much work to be done.
         He withdrew his sword and slid down a steep slope, using the momentum to launch himself into a blinding sprint, his blade ever eager to slice into flesh and taste blood. His eyes glowed red, his heart pounded like a beating drum, surging so much adrenaline through him he became incoherent, driven by one single purpose: to kill.
         The smog became thick as he ventured through the burning farmlands, but he moved through it unhindered, following the scent of death like a hound. In the corner of his eyes he saw human figures thrash in the smog, appearing like apparitions. Stray arrow fire rained from above, as he manoeuvred accordingly, able to discern where they were going to land by feeling the disturbance in the air as they plummeted from the sky.
         He reached the castle grounds, entering through the smashed gate. Before him was a massive force of infantry pooled at the base of a tall stone wall, preparing to scale it while their enemies fired on them from above. Archers on the ground fired back in retaliation, letting loose a barrage of flaming arrows that effectively set a nearby wall turret ablaze. He ran across the courtyard and pushed through the crowd of soldiers – who were too preoccupied in the siege to discern him from the rest of their fellow men. When he got to the frontline he jumped onto the stonewall, and climbed to the top, leaping from foothold to foothold, weaving between other soldiers and oncoming arrows.
         The defending soldiers at the top of the wall were completely caught off guard as he vaulted into them and swung his blade, its steel hissing as it sliced through flesh, which sent bodies toppling to the ground. None were nearly as quick as he was, hopelessly unmatched as he leapt about like a wild ferocious beast, carving a path through their ranks until he breached into the castle's inner-cloister. Panic spread among them, declaring that no natural being had ever displayed such agility and endurance, concluding that he must have been inhuman, possibly even a demon. A group of heavy armoured soldiers wielding ōdachis charged, attempting to rally nearby troops with their display of courage, but to his annoyance proved to be nothing more than another futile effort against him. His blade however shimmered in delight, as it bathed in their blood.
         None of them were able to stop him, no matter how numerous or well armed. Those who were given the brief opportunity to glance into his eyes glimpsed into the hate and grief that drove him, channelled into an indomitable will that burned like the raging fire that engulfed the surrounding land. In their final moments they feared him, and rightly so.
         There was little resistance by the time he infiltrated the castle halls, few had been standing guard, with most of the men sent out to defend against the ongoing siege, allowing him to reach the main chambers practically unchallenged. By then, the anticipation was getting to him, he was going to finally comfort those responsible for taking what was dear to him. He couldn't help but grin with delight.
         But when he slid open the door and stepped into the chambers, he was greeted by familiar faces he was never expecting to see.
         He froze in shock at their sight, his thirst for vengeance faded, replaced by confusion and uneasiness. His stomach ached with anxiety, feeling as if he took a sucker punch to the gut.
         “ Meiou... Hayate...” He called out their names.
         His sister Meiou, had been sitting in the middle of the room on her knees, which were bound together with cloth, with her head tilted upward, exposing her neck. Her round face flushed; her eyes red from the constant flow of tears that streamed down her puffy cheeks. Hayate sat behind her, with his hands on her shoulders, his cold blue eyes staring towards Jin, as if he had been waiting for him.
         “How long must we continue to shed blood, my brother?” Hayate spoke to him. “We humans seems to be destined to forever make each other suffer.”
         His brother began to caress Meiou's neckline with his fingertips, causing her to shudder. Jin met her eyes, and could feel the overwhelming fear and sorrow she felt. He understood she wanted him to save her, but was unable to call him, only shed more tears.
         “She has grown into quite the lovely mature woman, hasn't she?” Hayate spoke thoughtfully, his hands sliding under her dress to grope her breasts.
         Meiou moaned in agony.
         “Hayate stop!” Jin pleaded.
         “If our clan is to survive, sacrifices must be made,” Hayate lectured him as he fondled Meiou more aggressively. “What kind of leader would I be if I chose to spare our sister over the fate of our entire people?”
         Jin attempted to run to her, but was held in place by human bodies that emerged from the floor. They piled over him while he struggled to break free, only able to reach out his arm towards her. He recognized the faces of the dead, being faces of those he killed, which included soldiers, mothers and their children, who howled and shrieked as they tugged on him. Tremendous pain surged through him, as his limbs were gradually pulled apart, but his only concern was for his sister, who raised a small sword to her throat.
         “MEIOU!” he screamed in his helplessness.
         She let out a quiet whimper as she sliced through her own flesh. Blood flooded from the gaping wound like a waterfall.
         His brother Hayate starred down at him with indifference, as Jin heard his own body be torn to pieces.
         “Your eternity awaits, brother.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

         Jin gasped into consciousness, lunging forward, which agitated his wounds. His eyes were wet with tears; his breathing was heavy, nearly in a pant. It took him a few moments to remember where he was, but he immediately knew something was lurking nearby, watching him. He was able to feel it, like the sensation of a chilled breeze.
         “Show yourself!” Jin shouted to the darkness, struggling to draw his sword with his crippled arm.
         He picked up the faint sound of shuffling leaves. His eyes squinted as his anxiousness turned to annoyance.
         “Do you fear a wounded beast?” He taunted, carefully watching for any sign of moment. “Face me and be done with it!”
         He saw a small four legged creature shift between the trees. It appeared to be a fox, but it was obvious that it was something much more extraordinary than a natural animal of its kind. It was much larger, with multiple tails that wagged in independent rhythm, with a fur coat which radiated pure white light. He met its intelligent eyes as it cautiously pranced behind the trunk of a large tree, then emerged from the other side as a naked human female, but retained her ears and set of tails from her animal form.
         The view made him stagger. He was uncertain if he was still dreaming. Admittedly, she defined the very meaning of femininity; elegant and sensual, with elongated slender limbs, large hips, and firm breasts that were covered by her long orange hair. He felt embarrassed to stare, and had to look away, regardless if the sight before him was truly real or not.
         “Such an impetuous human. Such ferocious aggression; such anger, and hate.” She spoke in a soft apathetic voice.
         Jin slowly looked up to meet her eyes again, uncertain what to say. He felt insignificant before her, and ashamed of his behaviour moments before.
         "You have disturbed the forest,” she stated to him, seemingly gliding over the uneven terrain between them. “Imposing fear and anger among the life that dwells here.”
         She directed him to nearby shrubs, where Jin saw glowing eyes watching him, lying in wait, likely only being held back by her presence.
         “Forgive me forest spirit,” Jin apologized with a sincere bow. “It was not my intention. I am just a traveller seeking for refuge.”
         “There will be no refuge for as long as the darkness clings to you,” she assured him, with added sternness. “You have walked a bloody path, and are doomed to continue, even now as you try to stray from it. For the darkness lures and evokes malevolence.”
         Jin trembled, only able to respond with a grunt. He felt her probing gaze, as if everything about him was laid out before her, and he was sure she felt nothing but contempt for what she saw.
         “Then I offer my life,” announcing the first thing that came to him. “To you and the creatures of the forest. Expel this darkness that swells within me.”
         “There has been enough senseless bloodshed,” her voice returned to indifference. “Your death would bring no reprieve, only further threaten the balance of this domain.”
         He fell to his knees, his eyes averting to the ground beneath him in his shame.
         “I do not seek pity, nor do I believe there is anyway to atone for my failings and the things I have committed. I understand that my burden is rightfully mine to bear. But, I ask for your guidance forest spirit.”
         “I can only offer you safe passage through the forest,” she answered him.
         Desperate as he was to convince her otherwise, he knew it was fruitless. Instead he remained silent, struggling to contain all the raw emotion that threatened to cloud his reason.
         “I can see there is much sorrow within you,” she added, her acknowledgement giving him some comfort. “But as long as the spirit remains strong, the darkness can be repelled. And you, human, have a strong spirit, indeed.”
         He looked up at her and saw what he believed to be a smile on her face. For a brief moment he was rekindled with a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time; so long it felt almost alien to him.
         It was hope.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

         It was the following late evening when Jin had reached the other side of the forest with the assistance of the forest spirit, who reverted back into her fox form as she guided him. Unlike his initial trek, which he estimated began four or five days ago, the route he was being guided through was quite leisurely, with straight forward paths and pleasant views to observe. He began to appreciate the vast beauty the forest contained, with small groves and brooks, populated with all forms of attractive wildlife such as deer, serow, and flocks of butterflies. Although many of the creatures withdrew into their dwellings as he approached, while others stared at him with unease and suspicion, but then appeared to look somewhat confused when they noticed the company that was leading him.
         It was clear that many of the forest creatures held the forest spirit in high regard, as few went as far as moving out of the way that happen to cross their path, and gesture in what appeared to be the equivalent to a bow. There were some creatures he had never seen before and could only assume to be supernatural in nature, such as tiny humanoids encased in a sphere of glowing light that hovered above in the canopies of trees. If he were to guess, probably some form of kodama – another type of spirit that inhabit trees considered ancient and sacred.
         For well over half a day they hiked, which naturally left Jin sore and exhausted. Thankfully, the forest spirit had been courteous enough to let him stop to rest and drink among the fresh water sources they happen to come across, but he had reservations to harvest anything for potential food, which had been difficult on his stomach. For a time he had to distract himself from thoughts of eating, as much as his desire for it grew.
         When they reached the end, the forest spirit had perched on a tall rock, and gestured with her head towards what looked like a tunnel shaped out of branches, with a winding dirt path. Jin stopped right before he passed by to bow to her in his gratitude. He smiled, but refrained from saying anything, assured there was a shared understanding by her quiet observant stare.
         The path eventually led him to a clearing with hills and thick fields. At the peak of the first hill he reached, he couldn't help but look back, admiring the view of the forest one last time, aware that he would never be allowed to return ever again.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

         The Rōnin stampeded through the village on their horses, nearly trampling the groups of people being rounded up from their homes along the main dirt road. Armoured soldiers dragged young women away from their families, thrown into carriages, with some taking the liberty of stripping them, and pinning them into the dirt to have their way with them beforehand. Food and valuables were pillaged, houses were vandalized or outright burned to the ground; men who put up any sign of resistance to protect their families were murdered in plain sight before them, usually in the most agonizing way for the sport of the soldiers who were eager to shed blood.
         The Rōnin however, had more important matters than harassing peasants, pillaging, or rounding up livestock for their employer's interests. Although they were searching for a woman, she was something much more valuable than any low class harlot.
         They skid their horses to a halt when they reached a man in brown heavy leather armour, sitting on a large stone smoking a pipe of finely shredded tobacco. When the man turned to greet them, he presented a wide grin that wrinkled his entire face. He was a bit short compared to the rest of his fellow soldiers, but his calm, almost laid back demeanor in spite of the violence surrounding him invoked a sense of authority and experience.
         “We have searched three miles out around the surrounding area, and have found tracks that suggest that she has traveled south east with her escort,” the leader of the Rōnin, Haru – a broad shouldered man in a blue kimono and trousers addressed the pipe smoking man.
         “She is an elusive bitch, ain't she?” The pipe smoking man named Kaito said out loud, with little concern for his crudeness. “It certainly has become a tedious endeavor. But whatever the master wants, always gets.”
         He paused to suck on his pipe, then looked over to one his men, who was extraordinarily tall and very slender, wielding a yari. The expression of the tall man was mute, with narrow, dead-like eyes that stared with a callous expression, like the look of a snake while it waited in the grass for unsuspecting prey.
         “You hear that Eizō?” Kaito called to him, smiling. “Sounds like we have picked up the trail again!”
         The tall, yari wielding soldier named Eizō slowly turned his head towards him, then just as lazily twisted his thin lips into a smile.
         “Let's hope this 'Princess' is as beautiful as they claim,” Kaito remarked before he spat on the ground. “The master tends to get bored easily; it would be nice to find something that distracts him for a while, so we can return to more substantial tasks. This is better suited for petty mercenaries.”
         He turned back to Haru. “Forgive me,” he apologized with feigned sincerity. “I did not mean to offend.”
         Despite his annoyance, Haru said nothing, feeling Eizō's stare drawn to him, as if waiting for an excuse to use his weapon. He pivoted his horse and rode off with his men in tow, eager to complete his task so he can collect his pay and disassociate himself with such riff-raff.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

         The sun reached its peak over the expanse of fields and meadows as the hour of noon approached on a new day. Delicate winds swept through from the mountains in the west, composing a gentle meticulous dance for the diverse population of bright flowers and tall weeds that grew abundantly off the land's rich soil. The air was comfortingly warm, with little moisture during the day and night. It was quite serene summer weather, however, puffy clouds accumulated in the north, and would eventually migrate south with large deposits of rain.
         Jin pulled himself out of a shallow ditch under a tree, blinded by the unexpected intensity of the sun, realizing that he slept more than he intended. Despite that he still felt exhausted and sore, his arm more stiff than ever, irritated by the slightest movement or vibration, which caused him to grunt every time.
         He still hadn't eaten since he left the Haujutan Forest – not that he ate much to begin with, but it began to take its toll, as he was forced to take more rests, while regaining less and less strength with each one that followed. It didn't help that he lacked the motivation to as well, having degraded to a state of melancholy, feeling it was appropriate to deprive himself further, perhaps until he simply withered and died from starvation.
         The scent of the nearby daffodils was intrusive to his senses, it made him want to cut them all down in his irritation. Much as he desired not to, he couldn't help but remember when he use to watch his sister Meiou spend her leisure time in the garden of their large estate back home; whether she was reading under the trees, drinking tea out on the grass, tending to the flowers, or the birds when they visited her.
         She was a compassionate individual, virtuous, with a craving for adventure, which was understandable, considering her forced solitary lifestyle. Her cheerful naivety was infectious, and always made him feel at peace, no matter how dark the world appeared around them.
         “I wish I could be like you brother,” she said often to him as she day dreamed. “To travel and see far distant lands, like a bird, soar anywhere and feel the rush of the wind!” She exclaimed as she extended her arms and twirled.
         Jin would smile, always having difficulty to appropriately respond to her whims. “To live the life of a bird would be wondrous, indeed,” he eventually echoed her sentiment. “To be free of obligation and duty; it's difficult to imagine living such a heedless life.”
         “Then come be a bird with me brother!” She called to him as she danced.
         He stumbled to his knees, sweat pouring down his face as pain and fatigue overwhelmed him. In the tall weeds ahead of him he thought he saw something move, a human figure, that was as tall as his sister Meiou. Certain it was her, he used his very last ounce of strength to rise to his feet and wobble towards her.
         “Meiou...” he blurted out as he struggled to keep his body moving.
         For some time he wandered through the fields, desperately trying to push away the weeds that hindered his path. His body shook, his mouth dried, and he began to lose his sense of perception, then eventually all coherence entirely.
         His body unable to go on any longer, he collapsed. In his last few consciousness moments he was sure he saw a young woman standing before him, who must have been his sister, beckoning him to join her in the afterlife.
         Nothing else could have been more comforting to him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

         Emptiness. How relieving it was to experience. Jin had been hopeful he finally passed in the afterlife, and could be at peace, as he had wished for so long. The threat of being condemned to a tortuous existence for eternity nothing but a deception, fabricated by the demon Akugou as his final act of cruelty before death. How he looked forward to be reunited with his family and see Meiou's bright smile again.
         But to his disappointment, he realized he had been still breathing, slowly opening his eyes to trees looming over him, and a presence nearby. His body was still quite numb, but he was vaguely able to feel something touch his right shoulder; fortunately he had yet to feel any pain.
         He let his head fall to the side, seeing a woman sitting over him, as she washed his wounds with a wet cloth, so focused in her task that she hadn't noticed he had regained conscious.
         “Help me Nō,” the woman then said to someone unseen.
         He was rolled onto his left side as his wound was re-bandaged with fresh ripped cloth from the skirt of her red kimono dress.
         The younger woman named Nō stared at him and gasped, realizing a moment later he was starring back. Her soft features scrunched up in horror, while her full lips gaped open as if to scream, but was unable to let anything out.
         “Oh, you're awake,” the nursing woman addressed him.
         When she finished wrapping him, she gave him a wooden bowl of water mixed with herbs; it tasted extremely bitter, and was hard to swallow, but he wasn't in any position to refuse it.
         “We're wasting time sitting here,” he overheard the frustration of an older male voice. “We've done enough for him. He lives. He can handle himself from here.”
         “Enough Yoshiko!” The older woman demanded.
         “You foolish stubborn woman,” the man erupted in anger. “Is one stranger's life worth you and your daughter's?”
         “Everything is worth decency and compassion.” She snapped back without raising her own voice. “Perhaps if my former husband realized that, we wouldn't be in this situation.”
         “You're so quick to judge and belittle your recently deceased husband! Have you no honor Kahane?”
         “I have already disgraced myself and my family by running from the enemy. What I do beyond this point does not matter now, does it?” She challenged him. “If you wish for it to be so Yoshiko, I can relieve you of your duties.”
         Jin heard the man grunt in anger and storm off.
         “My apologies for that,” she then turned her attention back to him.
         “None needed my lady,” Jin replied politely. “But I am inclined to agree however, that your good intentions are unfounded, perhaps even misplaced on a person of my kind.”
         “Are all men the same?” She mused, shaking her head. “I had you figured for another prideful fool. Judging by your scars, you must have lived quite a rigid life by the sword.”
         Jin said nothing, uncertain how to reply.
         She was quite attractive; it was a bit difficult to judge how old she was – assuming that the younger woman Nō was her daughter the man had been referring to, having retained a lot of her delicate features in her maturity, with long black hair, and wide brown eyes that invoked kindness and wisdom.
         “I cleaned your wounds as best as I could,” she explained while double checking the work she did on him. “You're lucky you didn't die from infection, walking around as you were in those rags.
         'You're probably already aware, but there will be permanent scarring,” she added after a pause.
         Jin attempted to nod; the soreness returning to him.
         “You should rest a bit more. I am Kahane Nakamoto,” she curtsied with a slight bow.
         “Jin. Jin Kumazawa,” he replied.
         She smiled as she stood up. “Nice to meet you. Nōhime you have already met,” turning her head to her, who shyly peeked from a nearby tree.
         It was no mistaking that it was her daughter, identical as they were in appearance, but obviously more youthful, with a slender face, thicker bangs, and wider ears protruding from her matching hair. She wore a long sleeved purple kimono dress with a floral pattern of pink camellia flowers, appearing to be no more than thirteen or fourteen years old; still a child in Jin's eyes.
         Looking at her rekindled feelings he had experienced earlier in the fields, which forced him to look away. It made him feel exhausted once again, desiring rest just as Kahane had suggested.
         And for once sleep quickly came to him.
         Hours later, Jin woke up to meet the man named Yoshiko – who carefully watched him with a bitter expression, sitting against a tree, bathed in evening sunlight with his arms crossed. He was dressed like a soldier, wearing a single piece breast plate, a jingasa made of hardened leather, and two katanas strapped around his waist. He had a sunken face, with thick brows, a long nose, and a scruffy beard along his wide chin. Based on his features and demeanor, it was easy to imagine that his face was always in a frown.
         “I should cut you down,” he growled at Jin. “For the danger you put everyone in, all because Kahane is too soft to let a man die when he deserves to.”
         “Yoshiko!” Kahane interjected.
         “Shut up woman, I've let you indulged enough,” he threatened her.
         “Do what you must,” Jin told him calmly.
         Yoshiko scoffed, picking up Jin's sword that he had propped on the tree next to him, and withdrew it partially from its sheath.
         “This blade has certaintly seen some use,” he remarked as he inspected it. “So where are you from vagrant?”
         “I came from the west, the Yukimura province,” Jin answered.
         “The west?” Yoshiko repeated, lifting his brow in an exaggerated expression. “The Yukimura Province, through the ancient forest? For what Purpose?”
         “Refuge from war,” Jin answered as honestly as he could.
         Yoshiko chuckled. “Well you've journeyed to the wrong place. But as far as I know, there is war everywhere these days. Everyone is looking to take something for themselves, preferably by spilling each other's blood.
         'There are men hunting us,” his voice deepened with concern. “Who serve a ruthless and greedy criminal, who dares to appoint himself as the new daimyo of our land. He extorts honest people, robs them of their homes, their wives and daughters, and claims them as his property. Now his desires turn to the young girl before you,” pointing to Nōhime, who huddled with her mother. “He murdered her father because he refused to give her hand to him. In his retribution he vows to take her as his, subjugating her to his twisted preversions until he gets bored, then dispose her like the rest of his enslaved women.”
         Jin sat in silence, unfazed by his words. It was a common story he heard before. He knew many greedy and sadistic men in his time, the very kind who conspired to destroy his clan, and succeeded in doing so.
         “Do you understand vagrant?” Yoshiko demanded. “It is my duty to protect my master's wife and child, and you're a liability that threatens that obligation.”
         “Yoshiko,” Kahane, attempted to interject again. “If you-”
         “I told you to be silent!” He cut her off, his eyes fixated on Jin. “You certaintly have the warrior's eyes.” He addressed him. “You do not fear death do you? You embrace it. Yet, here you are, roaming without purpose. For how long have you discarded your honor and duty?”
         Jin had to admit he did not have a good answer. He could only look away in shame. It was true that for quite some time he had been wandering throughout the world without any sense of direction or justification, just a hollow shell that continued a pitiful existence.
         “Before the hour of dawn, we will be moving out,” Yoshiko stated, his voice more controlled. “If you cannot move on your own by then, I will end your life myself.”
         He walked away before anyone else could say anything. Kahane trembled, struggling to find words, but instead held her daughter tighter in her arms.
         The hours slipped by. Jin barely got any more sleep, perhaps from having overslept earlier. He stared blankly at the night sky with the glittering stars, unsure how to think or feel at the time. It was uncertain how long he laid there, but the night seemed to drag on forever as restlessness got the better of him. He rose to his feet, retrieving his shitagi that was neatly folded over a hemp sack, then tiptoed around his newly acquainted company as they slept. Moving proved to be much easier than he expected, managing to put on his robe then walk a short distance away towards an outcrop of rocks surrounded by trees.
         He took a deep breath, and began to move his body in slow choreographed motions, stepping and turning his body while extending or raising his arms in defensive and offensive postures. For a while he practiced kata, reviewing the fighting techniques taught to him by his master Satoshi, while re-learning how to maintain perfect balance and form.
         “Ah yes, graceful as a drunken boar!” He heard Satoshi's voice in his head.
         He took another breath, and started over again.
         “No! Your footing is off! You trying to fight or imitate a crane? Again!”
         Despite the initial resistance his body gave him, he persisted, moving at a slower pace to reduce the strain on his muscles, practising over and over again. With patience, he regained his limberness, moving more fluid and precise with each stance that followed. Pain and stiffness still lingered in his shoulder, but much less strenuous than before.
         When sunlight dimly lit the earth's surface, Jin had been standing among his other companions, having felt refreshed. He met Yoshiko's eyes with confidence, who stared back with reservation, throwing the filled hemp sack of gear over his shoulder.
         “Perhaps you fear death after all,” Yoshiko mocked. “You understand you will likely have to spill blood again?” he warned, throwing his sword to him.
         Jin snatched it with his left hand as if he guided it fall into his palm.
         “For saving my life, I pledge my sword to lady Kahane Nakamoto, and her daughter, Nōhime Nakamoto.” He announced, bowing towards them. “For your generous act of kindness, I promise to protect you, and ensure you reach your sanctuary, where ever that may be.”
         Kahane smiled and bowed back. “I knew you were an honorable man, Jin Kumazawa,” she said encouragingly to him.
         Jin noticed Nōhime attempted to imitate her mother's courteous gesture, but instead buried her face when she sensed him looking at her.
         “We'll see how much your word is really worth,” Yoshiko dismissed, his face back into a frown as he lead the way.
         Jin trailed behind them, preoccupied with his own reservations. He recounted the words of the forest spirit: “You have walked a bloody path, and are doomed to continue, even now as you try to stray from it.”
         Was it by her design that he was led into such circumstances? It gnawed at him. The irony was, as much violence as he had committed, he wished to prevent more if he could. For killing made him weary, and as time passed, it became less and less justified for him to commit.