The Cloaked Samurai

"You're pretty lucky, Kioko," you commented, watching as she tried on her wedding kimono yet again. "You're in love with the man you're going to marry."

"Yeah, I know. You always hear those stories of girls who fall in love with regular village men but are forced to marry ugly lords twice their age," Kioko nodded. "Come on, stand next to me."

You stood up and went beside her, gazing into the mirror. Your kimono was a pastel purple with white and dark purple flowers. The lining was cream and sash was dark pink. The pastels and dark colors together represented the fact that you were a teenager but ready for marriage. Your parents were probably hoping some rich man would notice this at your sister's wedding.

"Just a few more days!" Kioko grinned, hugging you.

"What will happen to me when you're gone?" you asked, your face solemn.

"You'll marry a handsome prince of your own," Kioko assured you. "You won't miss me at all! Well, I'll still write to you, of course, but you'll be so happy and busy in your own household that you'll barely remember me."

"What if I'm his second wife?" you blurted out. "What if I'm married off as a lady-in-waiting, just a spare wife?"

"Papa and Mama won't let that happen," Kioko smiled. "They want the best for us, and they'll make sure you're a proper lady or princess."

You returned the kimonos to their place in storage. As Kioko left, you glanced at the katana and the white cloak. You remembered the fight and how Goro had told you to bring a katana. You picked both items up and brought them to your room. Maemi was already there waiting for you. You silently took the katana from its sheath. The blade gleamed in the sunlight.

"You don't mean to kill him, do you, my lady?" Maemi asked tentatively. You had informed her of the fight.

"No, but I'm sure he intends to kill me," you said, trying to steady your shaking voice. "I don't know if I can defend myself with just a bamboo stick."

"You have to try. If the officials catch you fighting with a katana, you could be in serious trouble," Maemi warned.

"You're right," you nodded, sliding the katana back into its sheath. "Return this to the storage room and tell my family I have started meditation earlier than usual," you commanded.

Soon, you were walking quickly through the village towards the dojo. It was almost noon, and Goro would be waiting by now. You stealthily opened the door to the dojo and slipped inside. Making as little noise as possible, you tip-toed down the hallway and made your way into an empty room. The bamboo practice swords were leaning against the wall. You grabbed one and escaped from the dojo before anyone noticed.

Goro was in fact standing by the river, katana in hand. It was already drawn, and he looked very impatient. You made a note of this, thinking that it may come in handy during the fight.

"You actually showed. I was beginning to think you chickened out," Goro sneered. His face darkened as he saw the bamboo pole. "I thought I told you to bring a katana! Are you insulting me, thinking you can beat me with only a stick?"

"I don't want to fight you, sir," you tried one last time to get out of it. "I'm not trying to take over your position in the dojo. If we can settle this peaceably-"

"Not a chance!" Goro charged at you, the point of his katana aimed at your stomach. You jumped to the side just in time. Keeping his momentum, he turned and came back at you. His movements were large and clumsy. You had to keep avoiding him until you could figure out his pattern.

Finally, you started to get a feel for how he was moving. It was mainly just recklessly charging, but there was definitely a rhythm. He swung down, aiming for your head. You hold up your bamboo pole the way you were taught to block his attack. His katana sliced through the bamboo, breaking it. Surprise shot through your brain, and you didn't react in time. As you pulled away, his katana sliced deeply into your left arm. You winced, dropping the broken bamboo pole and holding your arm. Blood was already seeping out and leaking through your fingers.

"I sharpened my katana to perfection," Goro grinned. "Ready to give up, or will I have to kill you?"

"I'll never stop fighting, not as long as I'm alive," you swore.

"Then you'll die trying!" Goro shouted, running at you. You scooped up your broken bamboo pole again, jumping out of the way. This time, as he ran past you, you stabbed his side with your stick. The splinters of wood pierced through his skin, and he stumbled. Taken advantage of this, you pushed him to the ground. His katana was knocked out of his hand, and you snatched it up. You pointed the tip of it at his neck. His eyes widened, and he started shaking suddenly.

"I... I give up! I surrender!" he stuttered. Your lips curled in a sick smile as you watched him twitch in fear. He wasn't so strong after all.

"That's enough!" a familiar voice shouted. You both turned to see Farren staring at you with a stern, cold gaze. Your stomach flip-flopped. You had the feeling that you were in extreme trouble.

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"I thought I had taught you both better than this! It is strictly against the rules to fight the other training samurais at this dojo unless supervised by either Farrah or myself and it is only for practice! To have two of our students fighting to the death in view of the entire village..." Farren sighed in frustration, pacing across the room. You and Goro sat next to each other. Farren stopped in front of Goro.

"Goro, I thought you would be welcoming to our newest student and help him in his training," he said. He turned his icy gaze to you. "Akio...." His voice trailed off, but his silence was enough. The disappointment in his eyes was enough to make you want to die.

"You have both brought shame to our dojo. We will discuss your punishments tomorrow," Farren said calmly yet angrily. He left the room. Farrah came in a moment later with a basket.

"Let me bandage your wounds," she said, pulling out some white cloth.

"It's fine," you mumbled. Your heart felt like it was snapping in two. You never meant to make Farren so mad. Why hadn't you just refused to fight? Why hadn't you told them? Your reasons for not doing so now seemed foolish and childish.

"But your arm-" Farrah objected.

"I'm going home. I'm sorry, teacher," you muttered, leaving the dojo. You started to run back to the mansion. You burst in through the servant's door and went to your room as fast as you could. Maemi wasn't inside. You fell to your knees, the held-back tears finally streaming from your eyes. You could only remember the night the prince attacked you, and the thought of your comforter's strong arms wrapped around you only made you cry harder. You were all alone, and you wished more than anything else that he was here.