“I’m sorry, can I help you?”

Kazu followed the spear tip pointed at his neck up to the soldier’s face. He wasn’t a samurai, just a guard. Just a guard who could end his life with a single thrust.

“What’s under the vest?”

“I’m sorry?”

“The vest. What’s under it?”

“Oh this?” Kazu feigned surprise. “This is nothing, just an injury, see.” He pointed to the slashes on his face. “Some men attacked me and-”

He dropped the sword and grabbed the spear with his right hand, pushing forward so the guard let go in surprise. “I don’t appreciate sharp things being pointed at my throat, thank you very much.”

The guard snarled and charged him. Kazu swung the spear and connected with the man’s face, crumpling him to a heap on the dirty road. He rammed the spear into his throat, moments before he hit the ground himself, blindsided. This was not how he intended his morning to go.

“Get him!”

A group of soldiers rushed him. Five, maybe six. The world was still a little blurry. He grabbed the sword and stood ready to attack. It felt like an extension of his arm, perfectly weighted and like it had been forged for his hand. He wasn’t unskilled in the use of swords, but this was something else. Blood splattered as the sword sliced through a man’s face. It was still as sharp as ever. He dropped and rolled, ducking under the soldier’s attack before it came. He broadcast his moves for the entire world to see; if this is what classified as a guard here the Yashiro were in serious trouble. He grabbed dirt and threw it into a nearby soldier’s eyes, kicking him into a ditch.

A slash split open his leg. He spun and felt the blade connect cleanly with a soldier’s neck. He fell to the ground, blood spurting out through the fingers now clasped around his neck. A foot connected with Kazu’s face and he felt the world spinning again as he was pushed backwards. The soldier ran at him, but the spear he held was too long and he was too close. Kazu waited and thrust his sword up, pulling and spilling the man’s guts over the road.

Only one man remained.

“Stop!”

The soldier’s face contorted in rage and his breathing laboured, but he did as he was told. Kazu tried to find the source of the sound. A large man in full samurai armour towered above him. Large was being kind. He was more tower than man. With the sun high in the sky and blood running into his eyes, it was like being face to face with a demon from the legends of old. He swallowed.

“Why have you disturbed the peace and killed four of my soldiers this early in the morning?”

“They… they attacked me first.”

“So you killed them?”

“They would have killed me.”

“Stand up.”

He did as he was told. Kazu himself was taller than the average man, but the samurai before him was at least a good head taller and far wider in the shoulders too. His aura was oppressive, as though his spirit might reach out and crush him just for fun.

“What’s your name?”

“Kazu, sir.”

“Kazu?”

“Just Kazu.”

“I see, just Kazu. My name is Sou. Yashiro Sou.”

Oh.

“I’m sorry, my lord.” Kazu dropped to the ground and bowed as low as he could. Well that explained it. He was standing in the presence of a daimyo’s son - a future daimyo - and he had just killed four of his men right in front of him. He had escaped many hairy situations in his brief, tumultuous life, but Kazu feared this may finally be the end.

“They were trying to kill me so I defended myself and… I’m sorry, my lord.”

Kazu didn’t dare look up. The very large daimyo’s son’s feet didn’t move. Yet there was no swift death. No mind crushing pain. Nothing.

“Stand up,” the larger man ordered. Kazu did as he was told once more.

“I’m in need of a new sandal bearer. You just killed my last one.”

Kazu gulped.

“I watched you fight. You’re good. Very good. I was impressed. I’m not often impressed.”

Kazu continued his silence.

“But you’ve killed four of my men, so now you’re going to have to work just as hard for all four of them.”

Kazu blinked a few times, confused by what he was hearing. “I’m sorry, my lord, I don’t think I quite understand…”

“I can chop your head off right here and return that sword you unlawfully removed from it’s rightful owner’s residence, or you can work for me, do something for the people of these great lands, and live. It’s up to you.”

He was smiling. It was like looking into the grinning face of a demon. Kazu opened and closed his mouth a few times, at a loss for words for the first time in his life. He carefully handed the sword to Sou and dropped to his knees again.

“I’m sorry, my lord.”

“So… is that a yes? I’m not sure what this position at my feet is. Do you want me to cut your head off with this sword or what?”

Kazu instantly jumped up. “No, no, I mean that yes, of course I’ll work for you my lord, whatever you need me to do, I’m your man, I’ll do it.”

Sou smiled. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Now first of all you’re gonna clean up this mess and bury these bodies with your friend there.” He pointed to the remaining soldier, who was intensely staring daggers into Kazu’s back. “And then I want you in my chambers by lunch time. We’re moving out by nightfall.”

“Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord.”

As the larger man continued on his way Kazu stood in the middle of the street, dumbfounded. His tired brain tried to process everything that had just happened. He’d stolen a sword, gotten into a fight with some soldiers, and had walked away from it all with a job. A job serving the daimyo’s son. It felt too contrived. A set up. He remembered the tanuki’s words. ‘You will achieve great things. But you’ll never find what you seek.’ Was this the tanuki’s dying curse?

“Are you going to stand there all day or what?” The disgruntled soldier brought him back to the present. He was looking at the mess of blood and bodies surrounding them.

“Yeah, sorry.”

Any man can become a samurai. You are destined for great things. The words of both the old man and the tanuki swirled in his head. He picked up a body and dragged it off the street.