Few words in Shinomen
They walked quietly through Shinomen Forest. “This way to the training grounds.” Up ahead, Kibagami Kuno had spotted the opening in the briars, and into its mouth he sent the three warriors.
Ex-Akodo Ryomo had come down to Ryoko Owari Toshi from his travels along the road to Yogo Shiro. In Owari Toshi he heard the tales – “Ronin” (Akodo Death Seekers) from the north were traveling to Shinomen forest to seek revenge on an Oni that had slain many of his breathren. His family disbanded, Ryomo felt purposeless and angry – there was no-one to blame and nothing to do. Without a family, there were no generals to order him forward and no enemies to battle, until now. He would find this Oni and kill it; Rokugan would remember the Akodo! And that’s when he met Nozimo.
Ex-Akodo Nozimo had traveled down Roka Beiden to avenge his brothers in arms, slain by Oni no Jimen at Heigen no Kaminari. He had grown up with many of them, and now in his last years as a fighter he would see that they were not forgotten even if the empire had forsaken their line. In Owari Toshi he met Ryomo and together they followed the spoor to Jimen, swearing to kill it or die trying.
What did Bayushi Tohomen care for family? His entire clan was exiled and ordered executed for treason. His clan had fled their castles and palaces for the wilderness – what more could they have expected than to meet more misfortune there, a devourer called Oni no Jimen. This was one outrage too many, he’d put an end to this latest threat or die trying.
Kibagami Kuno’s quest was a bit different. Almost a year ago his fate was revealed, and his duty forever changed: he had been chosen to carry the Lion Tanto and reveal to all of Rokugan the Thunders that would stop the coming of Fu Leng and his Oni; not an easy task as the Thunders themselves did not know the role they must play. And, as Togashi Yokuni had said, “To fall is fate, to take up is fate. The thunders are not of fate, yet.” Thus, it was on Kuno’s shoulders, as it was all the tanto bearers, to go forth from Togashi’s mountain and do what was necessary to ensure their success.
“Strange that I must become the oni to defeat the Oni,” thought Kuno as he directed the three warriors into the thicket. He had detoured them from their destiny with Oni no Jimen, promising them a part in the greater battle against all Oni. “Are we that different, I and these warriors? I and Jimen? Could they not stand in my place or I in his?” Beyond the thicket they would find the Tengu; Kuno was bringing him two warriors to demonstrate on, and one for himself to practice on. From his previous meeting with Tengu, he suspected he’d better watch every movement – this wasn’t going to take long. “Better they die on a battlefield than in Jimen’s jaws,” he reasoned hollowly.
They entered the clearing – hanging on the branches about them were the helmets of samurai from across all of Rokugan and staked into the ground like a stand of bamboo were Katana of all sizes and decorations. Kuno knew those swords; Tengu had given him one during their prior encounter – when Kuno refused to face him and the Tengu (honorably) refused to cut him down from behind. Ryomo spoke up first “Where in jigoku are we?” "Deep in Shinomen forest, at a place of secrets," replied Kuno, "you must be brave."
Tengu swooped down, his white wings folding in behind him as his sandals thudded into the ground. “I wonder where he comes from,” Kuno thought as the bird-man stalked over to retrieve his favorite katana, leaning up against a tree. Somehow, through the clopping of the sandals and the awkwardness of its huge form, Tengu moved with grace, gliding across the ground, each step deliberate and smooth. Something nagged at Kuno, as everyone had told him there was nothing like this teacher’s style in all of Rokugan, yet something was familiar. “Focus!” he commanded himself, Tengu was turning back this way.
With a leap, he landed before Ryomo, the ground thundering beneath him. Tengu stepped out and rose from a crouch, his blade arcing freely upward as if it floated on its own and not in the grasp of this monster, this … kami? “Paper Sword Technique. Lesson One: Imperfection,” and the katana, its force only evident at the final moment, clashed in the air. But what a sound – the pure note of Tengu’s blade against the off tone of Ryomo’s; and as it split the air, Kuno realized he heard the very spirit of a good blade. The sound also stirred his memory, and then he had it: the movements were a Chinese art that Tengu must have applied to Kendo – no wonder Rokugan was unfamiliar with it! But, if that were so, who had taught Tengu Tai Chi? Or maybe, who had he taught it to? It certainly wasn’t meant to be performed so fast, even in battle. “Reveries later,” he thought as Ryomo and his sword slid sideways from the center.
“Lesson 2: See it!” And with a spin and a downward strike, Tohomen and his family’s Wakazashi fell in two. Something was wrong with the blade; Kuno saw the imperfection as it gleamed in the light. Perhaps it was how the shadows fell across it, or maybe the arc it described wasn’t quite as smooth as a perfect blade’s should be. Comparing it to Tengu’s helped, with that image in mind, Kuno might be able to pick out the differences, the defects, in other blades.
Kuno drew the ancestral sword Tengu had given him: “Lesson three,” he called out, and turned to Nozimo. It was a shame he got Nozimo, who had been the first to realize the futility of battling Jimen. But Nozimo could not see purpose; he didn’t understand that this sacrifice would have value – that Kuno would carry Nozimo and Ryomo and Tohomen forward on his own mission to defeat the Oni. It was sad, but it mattered little. Good samurai do not need to know why they fight, only that others have decided for them and that their death will not be meaningless. Nozimo may be the butterfly that stirs the storm and turns back the tide, but only if Kuno fluttered, too.
“Lesson 3: Kill!” cried Tengu, “Paper Sword!” And Kuno struck. Swords clanged, but something was missing. He heard the sound of the blade he now carried, the deep rich tone like wind over cut bamboo, against white might as well been seagulls in Nozumo’s katana. But he couldn’t see where to strike. “You think you can come back tomorrow and try again?!” Kuno scolded himself, “this ‘lesson’ of yours is costing three samurai their lives – you will focus and you will get it right!”
Kuno brushed aside Nozimo’s counter attack and, as Tengu calls out “Again! Paper Sword!” Kuno was already moving forward. “Flow,” he thought, as the sword came up and over his head. And there, just as Nozimo’s sword flashed up to parry, Kuno saw the error of the swordsmith: the slightest waver in the mirrored shine of the blade. That was enough, and Kuno brought is blade down through the blade, biting into Nozimo’s shoulder guard. Nozimo’s counterattack was less than stellar – he stuttered “Why?” and backed away.
Kuno never could remember how he answered Nozimo. It was something about being chosen to fight back Oni and find the Doji, or words to that effect. He had seen the imperfection in the blade, for the first time. And though the Tengu had tasked him with killing the third, he could see him approaching Nozimo quickly from behind. “If Tengu said I must kill him to learn then I must be the one to kill him,” thought Kuno, but Tengu was too fast. Nozimo was gone; had Tengu spared Kuno the dishonor of killing his brother? Hadn’t Kuno already earned that infamy just by bringing them here? “You are a stupid human, I will kill you if you stay,” said Tengu. “Hai, but a little less stupid today. Domo.” And with that, Kuno retreated through the brambles.
by Josh Scribner