Now, in the year 1057 a.y. . . .

Jiro now grew to be a vibrant five-year-old boy. His eyes were the dark brown of his mother’s; his hair was black like his father’s. Also, his mother, Ayane gave birth to a girl, Yukio, a year after Jiro was born.

“Hey, Jiro hurry up!” exclaimed Suzuchiro, now nine years old. Jiro stood there, looking at his brother and exclaimed, “No, I’m not going to fight you again!”

“Come on, Jiro, it’s not going to hurt; I promise I’ll go easy on you!” yelled Suzuchiro. Jiro then turned his head and said, “I’m going home, I’m tired of losing to you, why don’t you pick on someone your own age.” Then he began to walk away from Suzuchiro.

“Jiro,” said a deep voice, “you will not turn your back to a challenge.” Jiro turned to the voice and saw that it was his father. Jiro then said, “Father, I can’t beat Suzuchiro, so there’s no point in. . .” The backside of his father’s hand across his mouth interrupted Jiro. Kazuyuki said, with a sterner voice, “Jiro, remember one thing. Never give up in the face of adversity. Fight, fight on until there is no breath left in your body. It doesn’t matter if you will be defeated. A samurai does not fear defeat, nor does he fear death. If you know that you cannot defeat an opponent, then lose honorably.”

“Yes, Father,” answered Jiro, as he walked back to his brother with a tear in his eye. “So, you gonna fight now?” asked Suzuchiro. “Give my bokken,” replied Jiro. Suzuchiro reached for the wooden sword and handed it to Jiro.

Jiro grasped the sword-shaped oak stick and said, “This time I’m going to beat you.” Suzuchiro began to laugh as he said, “Jiro, you’ve never beaten me, I’m just too good for you!”

Jiro said nothing, but wiped the tear from his right eye. He then raised the bokken above him and stood there, waiting. “Ready?” asked Suzuchiro. Jiro nodded.

Suzuchiro charged Jiro, but Jiro sidestepped him, stuck his foot out in front of him, and watched as Suzuchiro fell to the ground face first. Jiro then thrust the bokken into Suzuchiro’s back.

“You cheated!” exclaimed Suzuchiro, as he scrambled to his feet. “I did not, you shouldn’t have left yourself open like that,” argued Jiro.

Kazuyuki then intervened and said, “Jiro, that was good. You found your brother’s weakness and took full advantage of the opening he gave you.” He turned to Suzuchiro and said, “Do not be mad, Suzuchiro, it is good that he beat you. Now you won’t be so cocky, and you can learn to improve yourself now.”

“Kazuyuki-sama, dinner is ready,” stated Jiro’s mother, Ayane. “Thank you, Ayane,” answered Kazuyuki. “Come now, my sons, it is time to eat. Go clean yourselves up,” said Kazuyuki as he walked toward the house.

“Jiro, if you keep that up, one day you’ll be able to beat me every time . . . but you’ve got a long way to go ‘til you get there! Ha, ha, ha!” gawked Suzuchiro. “You wait and see, I’ll become a great samurai one day, and people will know who I am,” retorted Jiro.

The two boys walked to the well and washed themselves, and went to eat dinner.