The Cloaked Samurai
The Plan
"What does this mean?" you wondered, kneeling to pick up the items the man in your dreams had worn.
"Ah, there you are," your father said, walking in. He looked over your shoulder at the cloak, loose white shirt, baggy red pants, brown sandals, and katana. "It seems you found some of your grandpapa's things. He was a strong fighter. He gave them to me, but I have thankfully never needed to use them."
"I had a dream about them," you explained as you stood up and left the items there. Your father handed your shoes and umbrella to you.
"How peculiar. Are you interested in the ways of the samurai? If you like, I will take you to the village's dojo while Toki and Kioko are buying tapestries," your father said.
"Thank you, Papa!" you hugged him gratefully.
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"Welcome, Lord Natsu and Lady _____! We are honored by your presence!" the young woman of perhaps seventeen summers bowed, her shoulder-length brown hair falling over her face. "May I ask the purpose of your visit to our humble dojo?"
"Is it not customary for you to present your name and rank before asking questions of your lord?" your father said sternly, although you knew he was just teasing the flustered girl.
"I beg your forgiveness!" Her bow deepened as her face grew red. "My name is Farrah, and my twin brother, Farren, is the owner of the dojo."
Your father laughed heartily. "There is no need to apologize, Miss Farrah! We have only come to look around!"
"My brother is currently training some of our students. Would you like to watch?" Farrah offered.
"Yes!" you nodded, hoping you might recognize one of them as the samurai from the dream. Farrah took you down the hallway and opened one of the doors. A man who looked to be exactly the male counterpart of Farrah was showing the students how to block an attack. He noticed you out of the corner of his eye and nodded respectfully before continuing to teach. As you silently watched the class, you could suddenly remember the face of the samurai in your dream. You realized with a shock that the samurai was you.
You developed a plan. Every day, you would put on your grandpapa's clothes and tie back your hair, thus appearing like a man. You would then come to this dojo to learn how to fight. It was risky. The penalty of a woman, especially a lady, disguising herself as a man and fighting was death, but in this way, you could protect your family.
"Ah, there you are," your father said, walking in. He looked over your shoulder at the cloak, loose white shirt, baggy red pants, brown sandals, and katana. "It seems you found some of your grandpapa's things. He was a strong fighter. He gave them to me, but I have thankfully never needed to use them."
"I had a dream about them," you explained as you stood up and left the items there. Your father handed your shoes and umbrella to you.
"How peculiar. Are you interested in the ways of the samurai? If you like, I will take you to the village's dojo while Toki and Kioko are buying tapestries," your father said.
"Thank you, Papa!" you hugged him gratefully.
+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
"Welcome, Lord Natsu and Lady _____! We are honored by your presence!" the young woman of perhaps seventeen summers bowed, her shoulder-length brown hair falling over her face. "May I ask the purpose of your visit to our humble dojo?"
"Is it not customary for you to present your name and rank before asking questions of your lord?" your father said sternly, although you knew he was just teasing the flustered girl.
"I beg your forgiveness!" Her bow deepened as her face grew red. "My name is Farrah, and my twin brother, Farren, is the owner of the dojo."
Your father laughed heartily. "There is no need to apologize, Miss Farrah! We have only come to look around!"
"My brother is currently training some of our students. Would you like to watch?" Farrah offered.
"Yes!" you nodded, hoping you might recognize one of them as the samurai from the dream. Farrah took you down the hallway and opened one of the doors. A man who looked to be exactly the male counterpart of Farrah was showing the students how to block an attack. He noticed you out of the corner of his eye and nodded respectfully before continuing to teach. As you silently watched the class, you could suddenly remember the face of the samurai in your dream. You realized with a shock that the samurai was you.
You developed a plan. Every day, you would put on your grandpapa's clothes and tie back your hair, thus appearing like a man. You would then come to this dojo to learn how to fight. It was risky. The penalty of a woman, especially a lady, disguising herself as a man and fighting was death, but in this way, you could protect your family.