The Beauty in Death

The blowing wind, swaying trees, radiant sunlight, and crashing waves surround me. To think I could find peace here. After ten years I had almost convinced myself. But it seems fate always has a way of bringing two enemies together. 

“Lord Yasumori, that’ll be 20 mon, as you already know.” The fisherman says. “Same as always. I don’t think you’ve ever bought anything different in your ten years of staying here.” 

“What else would I need when Mother Nature already provides.” 

A man on horseback gallops down the muddy street and skids to a halt right in front of us. He dismounts and hurries to me, eyes wide with fear. 

“My lord! In the adjacent towns. Ten men! They’re wreaking havoc. They want to know where you are. Soon they will be here. What are you going to do? 

Finally. They have come, I think to myself. 

“Do not worry about me Nakada. If anyone asks, tell them I’ll be by my hut, near the cliffside. There will not be bloodshed today. I promise you.” I tell him, before gathering my things and heading East. 

It is not a long walk. At least, not for me by any means. The amount of poems I have written in my head walking to and from town is surprising. Perhaps if I was a better poet I might actually write them down. But with all this beauty on this path, even an amatuer like me could capitalize on it. But this is nothing compared to the cliffside facing the sea, adjacent to my hut. The whole world opens up to me by the sea. If all I can do these days is think, then the cliffside is the best place for it. 

The ocean looks sad today. It may be vast and mighty, but it will forever be alone. Now to the problem at hand. Ten men are after me. Saito is, without a doubt, leading them. I believe I have three options. I could just let them kill me. From a certain point of view, I deserve it. Killing one’s father is cause for revenge I suppose. Would the world care if I am gone? All I contribute is unwritten poetry and the enjoyment of nature. But what is stopping me from defending myself and finishing what I started ten years earlier? From a different perspective I was justified in my actions as it was during wartime. Or as I stated earlier, blood does not have to be spilt. I hope reason can penetrate the young mind of Saito. It would be the best outcome if no one dies, yet I fear it is the most unlikely. 

Gods, just look at nature. Absolutely perfect in every way. The apex of beauty. If life is the most precious thing why should I be the one to end it. I will reason with young Saito and hope he sees the error in his ways. But, I will not give up my life so easily. If the gods force my hand, I will defend myself. 

The ground trembles beneath me. A group of horses approach. 

“Yasumori!” One of the riders shouts.

Ten men arrive behind me. Only one dismounts his horse and walks towards me. I sigh deeply and turn around to face the man. He dons the full armor of his clan with an oni mask covering his face. But without having to tell me, I know it is Saito. The other men, all young as well,  look at me with disdain. How can they hate me when I have never met or done anything to them? 

“You know why I’m here.” Saito says to me. “We will await you at Yamabushi Peak tomorrow morning. Either bring the sword used to slay my father, or bring nothing at all. The outcome will be the same. If you run away during the night, we will slaughter everyone in the town. Hopefully you found empathy in the innocent while you’ve been hiding here like a coward for ten years.” 

My gaze has not left his. Even as the wind picks up spraying dirt in our eyes. 

“Why kill me where my father was buried?” I ask.

“The only respect I have for you is that you gave my father a warrior's burial. He would want me to do the same for you.” 

Saito turns around and gets back onto his horse. 

“Do you know what your father said to me right before his death?” I call out to Saito.

Saito, just before riding away, stops and faces me again. 

“The cycle has ended.” I tell him. “You say your father would want to give me a warrior’s burial. But would he want you to continue this cycle of bloodshed when his death restored peace? You already know the answer. Stop this madness.” 

Saito looks up into the sky, trying to keep his tears from falling. 

“It is too late.” He says to me. “I must go through with this.” 

Saito spurs his horse forward, riding away, with all his men following in suit. Perhaps it is too late for reason. I suppose I should have suspected the need for the sword once more. I’m sure it is aching for blood. Who am I to deny its thirst. 

In a hole beside my hut, the blade and robes of my past reside. Neither used since the incident that caused Saito’s fiery vengeance. Robes of pure white, the color of death. A simple steel blade. Yet when used, it is as if the breath of Hachiman flows into my lungs. The Kami of the samurai guides my blade. 

Ten years of darkness and dirt leaves the edge not what it once was. I grab a bucket of water and a whetstone and begin working away at the blade. Making it as sharp as my mind and spirit. Will it cut? That is not the question. When will it stop cutting is more fitting. 

Have my muscles forgotten to move as a warrior does? Perhaps I have forgotten how eager I am to move like the wind once more. I strike as if it were my sole purpose. Cuts and thrusts barely perceivable. Sweat drips down onto the ground. Not even a real fight and I feel more alive than I have in ten years. It is getting dark. Wouldn’t want to face tomorrow without rest. There will be no dreams tonight. 

I awake to droplets of waters dripping onto my head. Seems I still haven’t fixed the hole in the roof. Thunder cracks from above. The gods are angry. I send a prayer to them and head back towards town. Yumi lets me borrow a horse from the stables which I use to make my way to the base of Yamabushi mountain. I arrive to find ten horses already waiting in front of the path. I must leave mine behind as well for the path to the peak is not for the faint of heart. 

The black clouds above stretch as far as the eye can see. Lighting rippling in the clouds above. A poem would be in order if not for my mind entirely being occupied on the coming fight. 

I arrive at the top to find a flat clearing surrounded by rocks with a large red leaved maple balancing at the edge of the cliff. How a tree such as that managed to prosper up here, only the gods know. 

My arrival does not seem welcome by the men. Four archers stand atop the rocks with arrows nocked. Three men with spears and two men with swords stand close to the rocks While Saito sits in the middle of the clearing amongst the leaves. What a fight this will be. 

“Saito. There is still time to leave. To not go through with this.” I tell him. 

“If you really believed that,” Saito responds, “you would not have come armed.” 

Saito stands up, unsheathes his blade, and slowly walks towards me. I let out a breath, plant my left foot forward, and slightly loosen my blade from its sheath. Saito comes into spitting distance then stops. We don’t look each other in the eyes this time. Our unblinking attention is solely focused on each other's weapon. His held high, mine by my side. 

Perhaps it was my prayer from earlier, or just my favor with the gods, but without notice, a bolt of lightning strikes down upon the rocks surrounding the clearing. Two men are thrown from their vantage point and fall down to their doom. Amidst this chaos, I find it is time I use an Iaijutsu strike. I unsheathe my blade as if it was blown out of a cannon and strike at Saito’s neck. His confusion from the lightning left him no chance to react. Blood flies forth, covering my face and almost blinding me. 

Though this is no time to falter, I quickly side step to move out of the trajectory of the predicted arrows flung in my direction. I get on to the balls of my feet and sprint forward towards the spearmen. Luckily shock is still coursing through the other’s veins and I slash across his belly, leaving his innards to crawl out. I retreat in order to position the other men on the ground in front of me to block the archers view of me. One swordsman advances and attempts a thrust at my heart. I wait until the last moment and deflect his blade to the right whilst using a thrust of my own. My blade met its target while his falls to the ground. I quickly pull the blade out of his heart into the direction of the adjacent spearmen. Not to try to hit him, but to make the blood spray out, hopefully blinding him. His mistake of covering his eyes will be his last as I diagonally slash through his arm, cutting into his head. Immediately after, an arrow flies into my shoulder, knocking me back. I manage to duck the other arrow and poorly block the incoming strike from the other swordsmen who lept in. I pray I’m still in the god’s favor as things are not looking good. 

Luckily, the last spearman gets greedy and tries to skewer me quite hastily. He must not have heard his archer companion call his shot as the spearman’s head blocked an incoming arrow that was headed straight for mine. I suppose the gods are on my side. I feint a strike from above on the last swordsman. He takes the bait leaving his lower half unguarded. I exploit this, shifting my momentum and slashing downward through his thigh muscles. He crumbles to the ground screaming. 

Without any idea of whether this will work. I pick up a spear from the ground, balancing its weight. Spear throwing was not my speciality during the wars but I am out of options. I launch the spear at one of the archers. It strikes him in his lower abdomen where he then tumbles off the rocks. The other archer seems to notice he is the last one standing and jumps from his rock, into the clearing, and sprints to the stairs leading down. I let him leave. One less body to bury. 

To honor Saito, as he would me, I give him a traditional stone mound, with his sword placed at the top. I gather flowers growing at the peak and place them around the mound. With a final prayer, I leave the peak. 

As I make my way down the mountain, surprisingly, the only thing on my mind is if I have the funds to afford coffins for all the other men. Benjiro owes me a favor or two anyway, maybe he’ll cut me a break.