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This is Rengoku Legends Fan Fiction
A wandering warrior often dismissed as a Kabukimono, “Wild man.” He wears vibrant clothing and armor with red paint around his eyes. He Carries a Nodachi, a long and robust Katana capable of cutting down horse and rider in a single swing. While he certainly looks the part of a wild man, he is highly self disciplined and compassionate. Gennosuke is on a self proclaimed “warrior’s pilgrimage” throughout Ikaiguchi that will have a larger impact than he could have imagined.
Gennosuke was born into an upper-class family of the Ukigumo clan. From an early age, he excelled in martial studies and was full of energy. He had an adventurous and compassionate spirit which led him to make fast friends anywhere he went. He was taller and naturally more muscular than his peers. Gennosuke’s adventurous personality often led him into conflict with tradition. Life for him was fighting, adventure, and celebrations.
Although he was generally admired and loved, Gennosuke’s carefree and wild antics outraged some of the ruling members. To some he was just a fun-loving young man who enjoyed competition and celebration maybe even a goof. To others though he was seen to be an upstart and a threat to traditional clan structure. There were expectations of upper-class clansmen and to the dissatisfaction of his peers Gennosuke shunned those duties for trivial pursuits. Wild celebrations, hunting trips, competitions were the only things Gennosuke applied himself to. Things came to a head when Gennosuke began frequenting a Hatsuki Clan village. He and a middle class Hatsuki woman, Izumi Kaede, had started a relationship. She was a trained shinobi and could keep up with him, unlike many of the women he knew from the Ukigumo aristocracy. She could match Gennosuke’s spirit, and he loved that. She had also been a rebel to tradition within her clan. Emotion for the Hatsuki was a vulnerability. Something meant to be kept hidden but this had never sat well with Kaede. She had been chastised countless times on wearing the cold, calculating, emotionless Hatsuki mask but it never stuck. Gennosuke found Kaede witty and challenging. For Kaede, Gennosuke was something new and exciting. He was an open book, a warm personality, and a direct contradiction to Hatsuki culture. The two bonded and before long she was pregnant.
This relationship was a problem. The Ukigumo had publicly turned a blind eye to Gennosuke’s wild ways even though they berated his father behind closed doors. To this point he had mostly been a slacker but now he was becoming an obstacle. They had intended for him to be made husband to a woman from a high-ranking Aranami family. This transaction would establish familial ties and encourage more trade with the seafaring clan. Kaede’s pregnancy was a threat to this plan, as it seemed Gennosuke was planning to take her as a wife which would offer no value to the clan. Not to mention the Affront he would be committing by marrying a lower-class foreigner and refusing the high-ranking offer from the Aranami. The Aranami were keen on this wedding as well. They had hopes that they would be able to acquire natural resources from the Ukigumo Mountains as well as secure a trade route to the libraries of the Kioku further north. There were also significant issues from the Hatsuki standpoint. Kaede was now compromised as a shinobi and was carrying an outsider’s child.
Kaede and Gennosuke’s relationship was to wreck the best laid plans, prevent lucrative alliances, and violate sacred traditions. The contradictory alignment of their impulses and desires to those in power could not have been more ripe for tragedy.
Late one Autumn night Gennosuke, a very pregnant Kaede, and various friends and family were out celebrating a successful hunt near Kaede’s village. The night sky was clear and the air crisp. The campfire burned bright and cast its warmth on the happy group. It was the kind of night that sets the expectation for what the perfect autumn night should be. They feasted on the spoils of several days of successful hunts and sake. Gennosuke drank, laughed, and entertained. Life was sweet. He had a fun and loving woman and would soon know the child she carried. He had friends and family and the world before him. As the night went on, he raised endless toasts to friends, family, adventure, and life. He was drunk with happiness as much as sake. He raised another cup and yelled out his younger brother’s name, Houraiji, intending to recognize his performance in the hunt but as he sputtered his toast someone laughed, “Lord Gennosuke! Houraiji can’t hear you! you are pissing away this complement while your brother pisses away his sake beyond the bushes!” Everyone roared with laughter. The party carried on and Gennosuke eventually succumbed to the alcohol. Several hours later he was awoken by the need to relieve himself. His mouth was dry, and he was still quite drunk. He stumbled through the camp and past some bushes where he began to piss. He sighed as much from relief as exhaustion and peered down through drunk, dreary eyes.
A corpse stared back at him. Mouth frozen in an inaudible scream and eyes glazed over in eternal horror. It was Houraiji. He had not only been killed but mutilated. It was clear his throat had been slit and while he hoarsely choked, sputtering his life away, his killers had savaged him. Every part of the young man was damaged except his face which was left to convey the horror he experienced in his final moments of life. Horror, grief, and rage filled Gennosuke. He roared an alarm and charged back to the camp as quick as he could wishing he could will away the lingering effects of alcohol. His roar was met with two vastly different responses the first a weary but loyal response from his hunting party. It was quieter than it should have been. The second was a Kumo battle cry. The Kumo assassins were in the camp and had been making their way from tent to tent slaughtering Gennosuke’s unsuspecting friends. As the remainder of the party attempted to rouse themselves from their drunken stupor, they were cut down mercilessly. Gennosuke roared his way to the middle of the camp swinging his deadly blade, Horse Chopper. His blade was an exceptionally large and robust Nodachi which matched Gennosuke’s physical stature as well as personality. A blade meticulously forged by Funkazan masters and ornately decorated. Gennosuke cut down several of the assassins roaring his condemnation of the cowards. Rage filled his heart while tears fled his eyes.
Then there was a scream. Kaede.
Gennosuke turned to see she was being held hostage. An assassin held a blade to her throat. The 4 remaining Kumo assassins regrouped behind the man.
“Put the blade down you big fool” shouted the hostage taker.
Gennosuke obliged hastily.
“Do not harm her. She carries a child. You may have my life and everything I own. Just let her go.”
The other assassins busied themselves securing 5 horses and scaring the now masterless horses away.
“We know she Carrie’s your child Gennosuke. Her swollen belly appears to be struggling to contain the child.” Said the hostage taker.
Suddenly a spear ruptured from Kaede’s midsection, and she screamed in horror grasping her belly.
“I have relieved the swelling!” Shouted another Kumo assassin.
Gennosuke sprang forward. The hostage taker slit Kaede’s throat turning her screams to stomach churning combination of gurgling and coughing. No sooner had all this taken place and the Kumo assassins had mounted their horses and began riding away. There was no way for Gennosuke to pursue. He was holding a dying Kaede as life drained away from her and the unborn child. Gennosuke trembled and wept uncontrollably. Surrounded by death and a now empty forest he wept. It was all he could do.
He spent the next couple days digging graves and burying his brother, love, and friends. Amidst the grief he wrestled with assigning blame and how to take revenge but there was no clear answer. The Kumo assassins would of course incur Gennosuke’s undying hatred for eternity, but they had clearly known who he and Kaede were. They had laid a careful trap specifically for him. Had they been hired? By who? Ukigumo? Aranami? Hatsuki? Who?!
While he was quite loved amongst the Ukigumo he had created enemies… or at least agitated internal clan competitors. He he also threatened a lucrative trade deal between Ukigumo and Aranami. So had the two groups conspired together to rid themselves of the obstacle that Kaede and the unborn child presented? We’re the Aranami this cold and unrelenting that they would orchestrate such a plot on their own? Had the Hatsuki been so angered and threatened by Kaede’s defection as a Shinobi that they would be this ruthless? Wouldn’t they have handled her punishment themselves? How do the Kumo fit into this? Was this entirely a Kumo plot? If it was Gennosuke couldn’t find a reason that rationally motivated this cruelty.
And as all these questions swirled in his head at a deeper level, he felt a painful guilt.
If he hadn’t been so drunk, he could have protected his love, his child, brother, and friends.
If he had been more wary of the anger he stirred in all these other groups he could have taken precautions or even actions to appease the frustration.
He had been so immature. People of his status cannot live carelessly and in the moment. Their life is a series of strategic moves for the benefit of the clan. By rampaging about the way he had, he had involved his brother, Kaede, their child, and friends in his mess. Now they were all dead. A payment in recompense for his actions and the ensuing reactions. He would have to return and explain all this to his father, Kaede’s family, and the friends and family of everyone else that had followed him on this trip.
His anger for the parties responsible for this attack raged but so did a deep guilt and sadness knowing that he had played a role in this outcome.
Gennosuke eventually made his way back to the Ukigumo clan. He relived that night’s terrible events as he informed the family and friends of the deceased. Some sided with Gennosuke and took pity on him. Others blamed him for the death and destruction his actions caused. The commonality Gennosuke experienced with both groups was the pain and sorrow in their eyes. Every retelling of the tale heaped more guilt and pain on Gennosuke.
His family and father took compassion on Gennosuke. His Father especially as he had always had a soft spot for his son. That was coupled with the fear of having lost one son and the potential to lose Gennosuke to the shame and pain of this event. He directed his anger toward the unknown authors of these atrocities.
Regardless of his family’s support, Gennosuke no longer felt at home. Memories of the fallen haunted him everywhere he went. His memories of racing around the local temple with Houraiji would play with intermittent interruptions of his defiled corpse. This was also true of other Ukigumo friends he had lost. Once happy memories were now stained with grim and horrific scenes from that night. As the weeks passed it became unbearable. Food lost its taste and sleep was a cold plunge into nightmares of that night. Finally, he approached his father and informed him of his pain. He vented and wept. Grief, frustration, and confusion overwhelmed the young man. His father’s heart was breaking. He was losing another son. Something had to be done.
“Gennosuke, perhaps you should go north and visit your old sensei from the Kioku clan. The longer one lives, the more pain they will endure. The Kioku clan’s extraordinary longevity has undoubtedly exposed them to such pain. Go and see if there is any help they can offer for this grief.”
What could remedy such a terrible loss? Such senseless and cruel violence? The image of his pregnant Kaede with a spear protruding from her pregnant belly, the look of pain and despair on her face, and the thought of the future that child would never have… what remedy is there for such loss? Despite his belief that there was no relief for such pain, Gennosuke did like the idea of leaving. He needed to be away from the ghosts that haunted his home. He hugged his father, packed, and set off for the Kioku clan.
Gennosuke’s teacher was an expert in the Nodachi. There were hardly any schools left that even practiced with the Nodachi let alone had a mastery. The large katana had long since fallen out of favor with many dojos and for good reason. The sword itself was as tall as the average person wielding it and its robust blade was very heavy in comparison to the katana which was about half its size. In its height of popularity though, it had held a mighty reputation. While many bragged about the ability of their katana to cut through a man, a properly wielded Nodachi could cut through a horse. There were even heroic tales of mighty warriors cutting through horse and rider in the midst of combat. Gennosuke’s above average size and musculature had led his father to send him to the Kioku for training with the Nodachi. It further added to his advantage on the battlefield. It was simple. He was large a large individual and his power and reach were amplified by the weapon. He was a fearsome sight for an opponent to behold. His father’s choice could not have been better. Gennosuke excelled with the weapon and built an impressive reputation even amongst the Kioku. So impressed was his first teacher that he took him to the oldest and most revered Nodachi master Gunbei. Gunbei was what the Kioku called a “Returned.” His mind had long outgrown its mortal shell and so he inhabited and taught through the gray minds. His expertise with the Nodachi stemmed from the time of its popularity across countless battles and duels to its present day obscurity. Gennosuke was one of Gunbei’s favorite students. His natural skill and the quickness with which he grasped the lessons thrilled Gunbei and reminded him of his original body. Through Gennosuke, Gunbei’s teachings enjoyed a warmth of life he didn’t experience with the cold and hollow gray minds.
When Gennosuke arrived, he unloaded his troubled heart and mind to his old sensei. The horror and pain touched even old Gunbei who had found that extraordinarily long life desensitized one to life’s joys and sorrows. Gunbei listened intently. Not saying a word but staring sorrowfully at his troubled student. Finally, after Gennosuke had exhausted himself and run out of words, Gunbei put a heavy hand on Gennosuke’s shoulder. He stared heavily at him and nodded. He then rose to his feet and retrieved a large bokuto, or wooden sword. He quietly handed it to Gennosuke and gestured outside. Gennosuke looked at his old teacher.
“Gennosuke, your mind and heart are tired. They battle with demons constantly and yet your physical self sits idle. This imbalance further exasperates your pain. There is nothing I can do at this moment that will help. You must put your physical self to work battling the demons that torment you internally.”
Gennosuke took the heavy wooden sword and ventured outside. As with everything these days training felt hollow and foreign. Something that he had enjoyed and that had been a major part of his routine just felt lacking. It was an unfamiliar feeling for him to feel so disconnected and unenthusiastic. He forced himself through the awkwardness of taking his starting stance.
Sword held just above his right shoulder, profiling himself toward his imaginary opponent, a slight bend at the knees, and a deep inhale he took his position. He held his breath a moment longer and then forcing every bit of pain and emotion he had within down into his stomach and then up and out through his throat in a deep battle cry he shouted releasing air, sorrow, and pent-up aggression. He whipped the sword down and to the right stepping forward with his right foot. Then almost as quickly as the first blow he raised the sword’s handle above his head so it created a protective slant that shielded his body from a downward strike that would slide harmlessly down his big blade and to the left. As if his non-existent opponent had completed such a strike and lost his balance Gennosuke then turned slightly as he stepped back with his left foot simultaneously whipping the sword in a vertical downward swing. As he did so he imagined the Kumo assassin holding the blade to Kaede’s throat.
He yelled and began the next series of motions with terrifying ferocity. For the next several hours he battled his inner demons. He looked like a man possessed. He was alone in a clearing swinging a wooden sword, red faced, and shouting but in his mind, he was in a fierce battle for his heart. This went on for hours. His deadly dance with the whirling wooden sword went on as the sun moved across the sky. He was unaware of time’s passing until at last he turned with an upward swing that that halted with the sword’s tip pointing at the sun as if he was threatening its retreat below the horizon. He stared intensely as his heavy breathing burned his lungs. Sweat poured from every part of his body.
“I don’t think the sun wishes to spar with you, Gennosuke.” Said Gunbei approaching cautiously.
Gunbei offered the exhausted man a cup.
“I am sorry Sensei. “Said Gennosuke holding up a hand.
“But I have lost my taste for Sake.”
Gunbei smiled, “That is fine, but this is tea.”
Gennosuke accepted the drink and smiled before taking a drink. Surprisingly, the tea was cold, but Gennosuke welcomed it as it seemed to wash through his entire body with a sense of cool, calming relief.
“You serve cold tea Sensei.” Gennosuke lightly heckled the old warrior.
“At some point the world fell in love with hot tea. Over time traditions and expectations are established and we forget to question the status quo or even why it became common practice in the first place. The tea stops being a refreshment and becomes a deity unto itself. I’ve always enjoyed hot tea before or after meditation… or on cold nights” Gunbei laughed as he got to the punch line of his retort.
“In truth though, I have always enjoyed a cold cup of tea after rigorous training. It counteracts my elevated temperature and I still gain the energy of the leaves.” The old warrior continued.
“Gennosuke you are a tremendous warrior. What’s more you have a warm and adventurous spirit. You cannot thrive in a cold, monotonous world of tradition. It doesn’t suit you and to do so would be waste the talent and power you can offer the world.”
Gennosuke began to piece together the lessons his Sensei was laying out for him.
“Sensei I did stray from tradition. I went my own way and it led to Kaede’s death, Our child’s death, Houraiji’s death, everyone’s death!” With each name the tears and the pain of Gennosuke’s voice increased. He gathered himself for a moment and continued,
“What would you have me do with this lesson? Bring further shame and destruction on my family?”
Gunbei sighed and looked away.
“You blame yourself.”
Gunbei turned back and the intensity of the ancient warrior’s stare was almost too much for Gennosuke.
“It was not your money that paid the killers and certainly not your blade that did the killing. There are lessons for you in this. Important lessons! But lessons are not blame. There are true villains in this tale Gennosuke as well as a reminder that things do not always fit neatly in a box.” Gunbei abruptly raised a finger and continued, “Nor should they!”
The old warrior continued the lesson.
“The world needs change, seasons, and a little chaos otherwise it stagnates and dies. The whole ecosystem will slow, become corrupted, and begin to decay and devour itself from within. You and your behavior were an example of that change and for those benefitting from or enslaved by the current system you are a threat. You defy and threaten their livelihoods. Do not refuse the duty of fulfilling their fears and granting the world your talent and power for change.”
The words struck Gennosuke hard. He had done nothing meaningful to learn the identity of the killers and bring them to justice. Lives were stolen and cut short and the thieves responsible were out there free of consequence.
“Sensei what can I do. I don’t even know where to start and surely if I step out of line with the Ukigumo I risk further shame or even retaliation if there is Ukigumo involvement.”
Gunbei replied simply,
“Then leave.”
Gennosuke stared at the old man in disbelief.
“You suggest I abandon my family? My home? After everything that has happened?” Gennosuke asked.
Gunbei shook his head tiredly.
“Gennosuke, when winter comes where do the birds go? They fly south. Rather than remain in a surrounding of death, decay, and frigid isolation they venture to where life continues. They journey far and continue to grow and experience life. Then, when the time is right, they return home with new experience and growth. This further enriches their family and community. In this relationship the birds benefit both seasonal homes and their families. The are in alignment with nature. Perhaps your life has currently entered a winter period?”
Gennosuke sat, quietly contemplating his teacher’s lesson. This conversation had started quite light but now was anything but. The decisions he was pondering would have a major impact on his life as well as the lives around him.
There was more though. Gunbei had said something that really struck at his heart.
“…Do not refuse the duty of fulfilling their fears ...”
If he did nothing, then he would have to live with the thought that he had essentially pardoned the murderers. Whatever the motive and whatever was to be gained would be achieved by the killers and they would never answer for their villainy.
Gunbei and Gennosuke ate together that night. Conversation was lighthearted and minimal. When done Gennosuke helped Gunbei clean up and then went outside to enjoy the night air. He sat in his thoughts ands pondered the old warrior’s suggestion to leave Ukigumo for a while.
There wasn’t much he could do in Ukigumo. If he did have true enemies there, he would be watched closely. If he didn’t then he would of course be ineffective in identifying the killers. Leaving would lull any internal Ukigumo enemies into a false sense of security. They would assume he had lost his way. It would also give him the freedom to explore and gather evidence elsewhere.
Suddenly his thoughts were disturbed as Gunbei placed a hand on his shoulder. The old warrior held a steaming cup toward Gennosuke. Gunbei smiled,
“Tea?”
To be continued…
***
I hope you have enjoyed this tale. If you like my work and are interested in the story please let me know and help spread the word. This piece was a joy for me to work on and if there is enough interest I’ll make this a series. Thanks!
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This is Rengoku Legends Fan Fiction
A wandering warrior often dismissed as a Kabukimono, “Wild man.” He wears vibrant clothing and armor with red paint around his eyes. He Carries a Nodachi, a long and robust Katana capable of cutting down horse and rider in a single swing. While he certainly looks the part of a wild man, he is highly self disciplined and compassionate. Gennosuke is on a self proclaimed “warrior’s pilgrimage” throughout Ikaiguchi that will have a larger impact than he could have imagined.
Gennosuke was born into an upper-class family of the Ukigumo clan. From an early age, he excelled in martial studies and was full of energy. He had an adventurous and compassionate spirit which led him to make fast friends anywhere he went. He was taller and naturally more muscular than his peers. Gennosuke’s adventurous personality often led him into conflict with tradition. Life for him was fighting, adventure, and celebrations.
Although he was generally admired and loved, Gennosuke’s carefree and wild antics outraged some of the ruling members. To some he was just a fun-loving young man who enjoyed competition and celebration maybe even a goof. To others though he was seen to be an upstart and a threat to traditional clan structure. There were expectations of upper-class clansmen and to the dissatisfaction of his peers Gennosuke shunned those duties for trivial pursuits. Wild celebrations, hunting trips, competitions were the only things Gennosuke applied himself to. Things came to a head when Gennosuke began frequenting a Hatsuki Clan village. He and a middle class Hatsuki woman, Izumi Kaede, had started a relationship. She was a trained shinobi and could keep up with him, unlike many of the women he knew from the Ukigumo aristocracy. She could match Gennosuke’s spirit, and he loved that. She had also been a rebel to tradition within her clan. Emotion for the Hatsuki was a vulnerability. Something meant to be kept hidden but this had never sat well with Kaede. She had been chastised countless times on wearing the cold, calculating, emotionless Hatsuki mask but it never stuck. Gennosuke found Kaede witty and challenging. For Kaede, Gennosuke was something new and exciting. He was an open book, a warm personality, and a direct contradiction to Hatsuki culture. The two bonded and before long she was pregnant.
This relationship was a problem. The Ukigumo had publicly turned a blind eye to Gennosuke’s wild ways even though they berated his father behind closed doors. To this point he had mostly been a slacker but now he was becoming an obstacle. They had intended for him to be made husband to a woman from a high-ranking Aranami family. This transaction would establish familial ties and encourage more trade with the seafaring clan. Kaede’s pregnancy was a threat to this plan, as it seemed Gennosuke was planning to take her as a wife which would offer no value to the clan. Not to mention the Affront he would be committing by marrying a lower-class foreigner and refusing the high-ranking offer from the Aranami. The Aranami were keen on this wedding as well. They had hopes that they would be able to acquire natural resources from the Ukigumo Mountains as well as secure a trade route to the libraries of the Kioku further north. There were also significant issues from the Hatsuki standpoint. Kaede was now compromised as a shinobi and was carrying an outsider’s child.
Kaede and Gennosuke’s relationship was to wreck the best laid plans, prevent lucrative alliances, and violate sacred traditions. The contradictory alignment of their impulses and desires to those in power could not have been more ripe for tragedy.
Late one Autumn night Gennosuke, a very pregnant Kaede, and various friends and family were out celebrating a successful hunt near Kaede’s village. The night sky was clear and the air crisp. The campfire burned bright and cast its warmth on the happy group. It was the kind of night that sets the expectation for what the perfect autumn night should be. They feasted on the spoils of several days of successful hunts and sake. Gennosuke drank, laughed, and entertained. Life was sweet. He had a fun and loving woman and would soon know the child she carried. He had friends and family and the world before him. As the night went on, he raised endless toasts to friends, family, adventure, and life. He was drunk with happiness as much as sake. He raised another cup and yelled out his younger brother’s name, Houraiji, intending to recognize his performance in the hunt but as he sputtered his toast someone laughed, “Lord Gennosuke! Houraiji can’t hear you! you are pissing away this complement while your brother pisses away his sake beyond the bushes!” Everyone roared with laughter. The party carried on and Gennosuke eventually succumbed to the alcohol. Several hours later he was awoken by the need to relieve himself. His mouth was dry, and he was still quite drunk. He stumbled through the camp and past some bushes where he began to piss. He sighed as much from relief as exhaustion and peered down through drunk, dreary eyes.
A corpse stared back at him. Mouth frozen in an inaudible scream and eyes glazed over in eternal horror. It was Houraiji. He had not only been killed but mutilated. It was clear his throat had been slit and while he hoarsely choked, sputtering his life away, his killers had savaged him. Every part of the young man was damaged except his face which was left to convey the horror he experienced in his final moments of life. Horror, grief, and rage filled Gennosuke. He roared an alarm and charged back to the camp as quick as he could wishing he could will away the lingering effects of alcohol. His roar was met with two vastly different responses the first a weary but loyal response from his hunting party. It was quieter than it should have been. The second was a Kumo battle cry. The Kumo assassins were in the camp and had been making their way from tent to tent slaughtering Gennosuke’s unsuspecting friends. As the remainder of the party attempted to rouse themselves from their drunken stupor, they were cut down mercilessly. Gennosuke roared his way to the middle of the camp swinging his deadly blade, Horse Chopper. His blade was an exceptionally large and robust Nodachi which matched Gennosuke’s physical stature as well as personality. A blade meticulously forged by Funkazan masters and ornately decorated. Gennosuke cut down several of the assassins roaring his condemnation of the cowards. Rage filled his heart while tears fled his eyes.
Then there was a scream. Kaede.
Gennosuke turned to see she was being held hostage. An assassin held a blade to her throat. The 4 remaining Kumo assassins regrouped behind the man.
“Put the blade down you big fool” shouted the hostage taker.
Gennosuke obliged hastily.
“Do not harm her. She carries a child. You may have my life and everything I own. Just let her go.”
The other assassins busied themselves securing 5 horses and scaring the now masterless horses away.
“We know she Carrie’s your child Gennosuke. Her swollen belly appears to be struggling to contain the child.” Said the hostage taker.
Suddenly a spear ruptured from Kaede’s midsection, and she screamed in horror grasping her belly.
“I have relieved the swelling!” Shouted another Kumo assassin.
Gennosuke sprang forward. The hostage taker slit Kaede’s throat turning her screams to stomach churning combination of gurgling and coughing. No sooner had all this taken place and the Kumo assassins had mounted their horses and began riding away. There was no way for Gennosuke to pursue. He was holding a dying Kaede as life drained away from her and the unborn child. Gennosuke trembled and wept uncontrollably. Surrounded by death and a now empty forest he wept. It was all he could do.
He spent the next couple days digging graves and burying his brother, love, and friends. Amidst the grief he wrestled with assigning blame and how to take revenge but there was no clear answer. The Kumo assassins would of course incur Gennosuke’s undying hatred for eternity, but they had clearly known who he and Kaede were. They had laid a careful trap specifically for him. Had they been hired? By who? Ukigumo? Aranami? Hatsuki? Who?!
While he was quite loved amongst the Ukigumo he had created enemies… or at least agitated internal clan competitors. He he also threatened a lucrative trade deal between Ukigumo and Aranami. So had the two groups conspired together to rid themselves of the obstacle that Kaede and the unborn child presented? We’re the Aranami this cold and unrelenting that they would orchestrate such a plot on their own? Had the Hatsuki been so angered and threatened by Kaede’s defection as a Shinobi that they would be this ruthless? Wouldn’t they have handled her punishment themselves? How do the Kumo fit into this? Was this entirely a Kumo plot? If it was Gennosuke couldn’t find a reason that rationally motivated this cruelty.
And as all these questions swirled in his head at a deeper level, he felt a painful guilt.
If he hadn’t been so drunk, he could have protected his love, his child, brother, and friends.
If he had been more wary of the anger he stirred in all these other groups he could have taken precautions or even actions to appease the frustration.
He had been so immature. People of his status cannot live carelessly and in the moment. Their life is a series of strategic moves for the benefit of the clan. By rampaging about the way he had, he had involved his brother, Kaede, their child, and friends in his mess. Now they were all dead. A payment in recompense for his actions and the ensuing reactions. He would have to return and explain all this to his father, Kaede’s family, and the friends and family of everyone else that had followed him on this trip.
His anger for the parties responsible for this attack raged but so did a deep guilt and sadness knowing that he had played a role in this outcome.
Gennosuke eventually made his way back to the Ukigumo clan. He relived that night’s terrible events as he informed the family and friends of the deceased. Some sided with Gennosuke and took pity on him. Others blamed him for the death and destruction his actions caused. The commonality Gennosuke experienced with both groups was the pain and sorrow in their eyes. Every retelling of the tale heaped more guilt and pain on Gennosuke.
His family and father took compassion on Gennosuke. His Father especially as he had always had a soft spot for his son. That was coupled with the fear of having lost one son and the potential to lose Gennosuke to the shame and pain of this event. He directed his anger toward the unknown authors of these atrocities.
Regardless of his family’s support, Gennosuke no longer felt at home. Memories of the fallen haunted him everywhere he went. His memories of racing around the local temple with Houraiji would play with intermittent interruptions of his defiled corpse. This was also true of other Ukigumo friends he had lost. Once happy memories were now stained with grim and horrific scenes from that night. As the weeks passed it became unbearable. Food lost its taste and sleep was a cold plunge into nightmares of that night. Finally, he approached his father and informed him of his pain. He vented and wept. Grief, frustration, and confusion overwhelmed the young man. His father’s heart was breaking. He was losing another son. Something had to be done.
“Gennosuke, perhaps you should go north and visit your old sensei from the Kioku clan. The longer one lives, the more pain they will endure. The Kioku clan’s extraordinary longevity has undoubtedly exposed them to such pain. Go and see if there is any help they can offer for this grief.”
What could remedy such a terrible loss? Such senseless and cruel violence? The image of his pregnant Kaede with a spear protruding from her pregnant belly, the look of pain and despair on her face, and the thought of the future that child would never have… what remedy is there for such loss? Despite his belief that there was no relief for such pain, Gennosuke did like the idea of leaving. He needed to be away from the ghosts that haunted his home. He hugged his father, packed, and set off for the Kioku clan.
Gennosuke’s teacher was an expert in the Nodachi. There were hardly any schools left that even practiced with the Nodachi let alone had a mastery. The large katana had long since fallen out of favor with many dojos and for good reason. The sword itself was as tall as the average person wielding it and its robust blade was very heavy in comparison to the katana which was about half its size. In its height of popularity though, it had held a mighty reputation. While many bragged about the ability of their katana to cut through a man, a properly wielded Nodachi could cut through a horse. There were even heroic tales of mighty warriors cutting through horse and rider in the midst of combat. Gennosuke’s above average size and musculature had led his father to send him to the Kioku for training with the Nodachi. It further added to his advantage on the battlefield. It was simple. He was large a large individual and his power and reach were amplified by the weapon. He was a fearsome sight for an opponent to behold. His father’s choice could not have been better. Gennosuke excelled with the weapon and built an impressive reputation even amongst the Kioku. So impressed was his first teacher that he took him to the oldest and most revered Nodachi master Gunbei. Gunbei was what the Kioku called a “Returned.” His mind had long outgrown its mortal shell and so he inhabited and taught through the gray minds. His expertise with the Nodachi stemmed from the time of its popularity across countless battles and duels to its present day obscurity. Gennosuke was one of Gunbei’s favorite students. His natural skill and the quickness with which he grasped the lessons thrilled Gunbei and reminded him of his original body. Through Gennosuke, Gunbei’s teachings enjoyed a warmth of life he didn’t experience with the cold and hollow gray minds.
When Gennosuke arrived, he unloaded his troubled heart and mind to his old sensei. The horror and pain touched even old Gunbei who had found that extraordinarily long life desensitized one to life’s joys and sorrows. Gunbei listened intently. Not saying a word but staring sorrowfully at his troubled student. Finally, after Gennosuke had exhausted himself and run out of words, Gunbei put a heavy hand on Gennosuke’s shoulder. He stared heavily at him and nodded. He then rose to his feet and retrieved a large bokuto, or wooden sword. He quietly handed it to Gennosuke and gestured outside. Gennosuke looked at his old teacher.
“Gennosuke, your mind and heart are tired. They battle with demons constantly and yet your physical self sits idle. This imbalance further exasperates your pain. There is nothing I can do at this moment that will help. You must put your physical self to work battling the demons that torment you internally.”
Gennosuke took the heavy wooden sword and ventured outside. As with everything these days training felt hollow and foreign. Something that he had enjoyed and that had been a major part of his routine just felt lacking. It was an unfamiliar feeling for him to feel so disconnected and unenthusiastic. He forced himself through the awkwardness of taking his starting stance.
Sword held just above his right shoulder, profiling himself toward his imaginary opponent, a slight bend at the knees, and a deep inhale he took his position. He held his breath a moment longer and then forcing every bit of pain and emotion he had within down into his stomach and then up and out through his throat in a deep battle cry he shouted releasing air, sorrow, and pent-up aggression. He whipped the sword down and to the right stepping forward with his right foot. Then almost as quickly as the first blow he raised the sword’s handle above his head so it created a protective slant that shielded his body from a downward strike that would slide harmlessly down his big blade and to the left. As if his non-existent opponent had completed such a strike and lost his balance Gennosuke then turned slightly as he stepped back with his left foot simultaneously whipping the sword in a vertical downward swing. As he did so he imagined the Kumo assassin holding the blade to Kaede’s throat.
He yelled and began the next series of motions with terrifying ferocity. For the next several hours he battled his inner demons. He looked like a man possessed. He was alone in a clearing swinging a wooden sword, red faced, and shouting but in his mind, he was in a fierce battle for his heart. This went on for hours. His deadly dance with the whirling wooden sword went on as the sun moved across the sky. He was unaware of time’s passing until at last he turned with an upward swing that that halted with the sword’s tip pointing at the sun as if he was threatening its retreat below the horizon. He stared intensely as his heavy breathing burned his lungs. Sweat poured from every part of his body.
“I don’t think the sun wishes to spar with you, Gennosuke.” Said Gunbei approaching cautiously.
Gunbei offered the exhausted man a cup.
“I am sorry Sensei. “Said Gennosuke holding up a hand.
“But I have lost my taste for Sake.”
Gunbei smiled, “That is fine, but this is tea.”
Gennosuke accepted the drink and smiled before taking a drink. Surprisingly, the tea was cold, but Gennosuke welcomed it as it seemed to wash through his entire body with a sense of cool, calming relief.
“You serve cold tea Sensei.” Gennosuke lightly heckled the old warrior.
“At some point the world fell in love with hot tea. Over time traditions and expectations are established and we forget to question the status quo or even why it became common practice in the first place. The tea stops being a refreshment and becomes a deity unto itself. I’ve always enjoyed hot tea before or after meditation… or on cold nights” Gunbei laughed as he got to the punch line of his retort.
“In truth though, I have always enjoyed a cold cup of tea after rigorous training. It counteracts my elevated temperature and I still gain the energy of the leaves.” The old warrior continued.
“Gennosuke you are a tremendous warrior. What’s more you have a warm and adventurous spirit. You cannot thrive in a cold, monotonous world of tradition. It doesn’t suit you and to do so would be waste the talent and power you can offer the world.”
Gennosuke began to piece together the lessons his Sensei was laying out for him.
“Sensei I did stray from tradition. I went my own way and it led to Kaede’s death, Our child’s death, Houraiji’s death, everyone’s death!” With each name the tears and the pain of Gennosuke’s voice increased. He gathered himself for a moment and continued,
“What would you have me do with this lesson? Bring further shame and destruction on my family?”
Gunbei sighed and looked away.
“You blame yourself.”
Gunbei turned back and the intensity of the ancient warrior’s stare was almost too much for Gennosuke.
“It was not your money that paid the killers and certainly not your blade that did the killing. There are lessons for you in this. Important lessons! But lessons are not blame. There are true villains in this tale Gennosuke as well as a reminder that things do not always fit neatly in a box.” Gunbei abruptly raised a finger and continued, “Nor should they!”
The old warrior continued the lesson.
“The world needs change, seasons, and a little chaos otherwise it stagnates and dies. The whole ecosystem will slow, become corrupted, and begin to decay and devour itself from within. You and your behavior were an example of that change and for those benefitting from or enslaved by the current system you are a threat. You defy and threaten their livelihoods. Do not refuse the duty of fulfilling their fears and granting the world your talent and power for change.”
The words struck Gennosuke hard. He had done nothing meaningful to learn the identity of the killers and bring them to justice. Lives were stolen and cut short and the thieves responsible were out there free of consequence.
“Sensei what can I do. I don’t even know where to start and surely if I step out of line with the Ukigumo I risk further shame or even retaliation if there is Ukigumo involvement.”
Gunbei replied simply,
“Then leave.”
Gennosuke stared at the old man in disbelief.
“You suggest I abandon my family? My home? After everything that has happened?” Gennosuke asked.
Gunbei shook his head tiredly.
“Gennosuke, when winter comes where do the birds go? They fly south. Rather than remain in a surrounding of death, decay, and frigid isolation they venture to where life continues. They journey far and continue to grow and experience life. Then, when the time is right, they return home with new experience and growth. This further enriches their family and community. In this relationship the birds benefit both seasonal homes and their families. The are in alignment with nature. Perhaps your life has currently entered a winter period?”
Gennosuke sat, quietly contemplating his teacher’s lesson. This conversation had started quite light but now was anything but. The decisions he was pondering would have a major impact on his life as well as the lives around him.
There was more though. Gunbei had said something that really struck at his heart.
“…Do not refuse the duty of fulfilling their fears ...”
If he did nothing, then he would have to live with the thought that he had essentially pardoned the murderers. Whatever the motive and whatever was to be gained would be achieved by the killers and they would never answer for their villainy.
Gunbei and Gennosuke ate together that night. Conversation was lighthearted and minimal. When done Gennosuke helped Gunbei clean up and then went outside to enjoy the night air. He sat in his thoughts ands pondered the old warrior’s suggestion to leave Ukigumo for a while.
There wasn’t much he could do in Ukigumo. If he did have true enemies there, he would be watched closely. If he didn’t then he would of course be ineffective in identifying the killers. Leaving would lull any internal Ukigumo enemies into a false sense of security. They would assume he had lost his way. It would also give him the freedom to explore and gather evidence elsewhere.
Suddenly his thoughts were disturbed as Gunbei placed a hand on his shoulder. The old warrior held a steaming cup toward Gennosuke. Gunbei smiled,
“Tea?”
To be continued…
***
I hope you have enjoyed this tale. If you like my work and are interested in the story please let me know and help spread the word. This piece was a joy for me to work on and if there is enough interest I’ll make this a series. Thanks!
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