Illustrated Warrior #5
Chapter Fourteen

The sun showed its first crimson rays on the eastern horizon. The night passed quickly, or at least it felt that way, with little time for sleep, but hours for restless thoughts. Yoshitora had chosen the arsenal in Central Park for what she expected would be the most important lesson in a lifetime of training.

But, for the first time, she would come to the training properly attired. Her grandfather had given her the clothes his wife, her grandmother, had worn in her youth as a Sohei warrior, with long crimson sleeves and leggings, a chest protector of beaten bronze and woven rattan armor to protect her shoulders and hips. With this gift, her grandfather had given her the greatest prize imaginable. When next she went to battle, she would do so as a full Kyoto Sohei

She still painted her face a geisha white. Even now, she still could not forego the mask. The only thing missing was the white cowl, something she would never obtain, for, not being of pure Japanese blood, she could never be ordained a true sohei.

In putting on the costume for the first time, she had lost track of the minutes. Dawn had come close to a quarter hour before, so that she rushed across the rooftops to meet Yoshitora.

As he waited patiently for her, as he always did, Yoshitora reflected on the events that had brought him here. He had not heard from Ana in months, yet news of New York's infamous Shi-killings reached his ears, even in Japan. His decision to intervene to preserve the honor of the Sohei and that of their family spoke of a deeper love than she had imagined. He stood alone on the stone walkway of the armory. He turned as she landed on the rooftop above him.

"Ana!" His voice choked upon seeing her like this. She was not surprised. She must resemble her grandmother in all the ways that mercilessly tug at memory. She who was the love of his life. She who was her mother's mother. She who Ana had never met; the one tragedy she had been spared. This armor was fifty years old, twice Ana's age. But through its fabric ran a timeless call to battle, to the war worth fighting. And so, though she longed to tell her grandfather that she cherished his gift, another part of her -- was it her heart, or was it her fear? -- questioned whether she would ever use it. For now she carried the truncheon she had taken from that the Nara giant; more a defensive weapon than the naginata she had carried before. With this club at her side, she now felt torn between the two different aspects she would show her enemy.

The term for her might be impostor. She was not truly a Sohei, but a new kind of warrior. One who had forsaken the always lethal blade of the Naginata for a more corporal weapon, while still trying to rally the spirit of tradition to her cause.

No matter what, Ana decided, she thought too much.

She launched herself off the rooftop, somersaulting through the air to land in front of her grandfather. As her body flew, her mind moved faster, preparing for the verbal battle she expected shortly. Ana heard her grandfather's accusations in her mind. How would she respond? She had been sent to this country to make war; but there are things one learned in the aftermath of battle.

"Very impressive." She could already hear the scorn in his voice. He pointed at the studded truncheon she held at her side. "Ana, why arm yourself with an unfamiliar weapon?" He held out his hand, and she handed him her club. "One that you have never practiced with? Does it signal an ill-disguised death wish on your part?"

This was the explanation that she had dreaded for so long. "Grandfather, I'm afraid the situation is really more -- complex -- than either you or I can understand. I've made myself a promise, a moral decision not to ki--"

He shook his head as if he had had enough of this nonsense. "No, it is you who creates complexities. You are here on a mission, but you've lost the single-mindedness of purpose I taught you when you were a child, when you'd lose in chess after failing to attack my king directly. You are doing the same thing now, only the stakes are much higher."

He threw the club at her without warning. She easily deflected it with a single, back-handed blow. "See?" he insisted. "You did not hesitate, You did not stop and think over your choices. You defended yourself. That is your nature."

Yoshitora was as stubborn as ever. How could Ana get him to see?

"But can I help it if there is a voice calling me to transcend my nature? Believe me, I have tried to do things your way, but it felt wrong."

Her grandfather studied her for a long moment before speaking.

"You dare to speak of my way? There is only the way of the Sohei, your family's way, an at one time your mother's way. The way of 'bushido,' the warrior's calling. When attacked, you defend yourself. But not your brother? You think that he and your father are past being defended? No! They need to be defended now more than ever, because they are powerless! The only blood they have left in this world flows through your veins!"

He turned then, and strode away.

"You're not leaving?" Ana called after him. "Listen to me. You've got it all wrong!"

"There's nothing more to say," he called over his shoulder. "My intention is not to best you in argument. Rather, I exhort you to search your warrior's heart for the answers. However, if you do not have a warrior's heart to search, then I have failed you for these past twenty years -- and as I failed my daughter, too. And if this is so, then nothing I could say to you on this beautiful morning will make a difference."

He left, and she realized that she was suddenly more alone than before he had appeared the previous night. She could no longer think. She found herself shaking, as if all the dead inside her were crying at her grandfather's words.

Illustrated Warrior

More Comics