"Drop your sword and accept defeat."
"A samurai does not accept defeat. Make me drop it before I make you drop yours."
The two figures stood there, motionless. The only things moving were their hair as the wind brushed past.
"Come on boys, lunch is ready!" A voice shouted from the nearby house.
"Ahhh, father! We were just getting to the best part." The two boys lowered their hands, still grasping their wooden katana's.
"Yeah, father. I was about to show Sakutarō how a real Samurai fights!"
The father laughed and walked back inside the house. As the two boys approached the entrance, he popped his head round the door.
"Maybe making you those swords was a bad idea. There's more to being a Samurai than just killing people."
Sakutarō looked at his younger brother, Genji, and replied to his father, "Yeah like beating up your little brother."
Genji, frustrated, pushed Sakutarō into the wall behind him. Immediately, as Sakutarō was about to lunge forwards, his father stopped him with the palm of his left hand, simultaneously grabbing both Genji's wrists with his right.
Shocked, both the boys were unable to breathe. The fear held them captive as their father's eyes lit up as he looked through the window.
"Sakutarō, take the bowl of rice from the table and give it to him. Quickly! Before he passes by." While his father gestured out the window, Sakutarō hurried for the bowl and rushed outside. As soon as he layed eyes on the man approaching, his feet were stuck to the ground.
The man, around 6ft 3, made his way towards the house on the gravel path. His straw cone hat tilted forwards, making it difficult to see his face. His clothes were worn out, with holes in his outer cloak.
"Ex-... excuse me, Sir. I have a bowl of rice to offer you." Stuttered Sakutarō, struggling to get his words out.
The man walked past, ignoring the very existence of the boy. Sakutarō kept his eyes on the man passing by, hoping he would turn back and respond.
His father came to the door, "It's okay, son. Come back inside."
Sakutarō walked back with his head faced down.
"He never takes the food." Sakutarō mumbled.
"I know, son. But it is the least we can do for the protector of the village."
"Why doesn't he take it?! Isn't rice the payment that Samurai accept?"
"It does not matter why. He risks his life for ours and the people here. He has our respect no matter what."
Sakutarō lifted his head slightly, to see if Genji had realised he was starting to cry. As Genji looked the other way, Sakutarō quickly wiped the tears from his eyes.
"Father... why doesn't he ever show his face?"
"Why should he? Either way, I'm sure he reveals himself to some people when the time is right."
"Well, next time I see him I'm going to make him show me his face."
The father stopped what he was doing, and turned towards Sakutarō.
"You leave him alone, do you hear me?!" His father responded, forcing the words through his gritted teeth. "You do not mess around with Samurai, and if you do, it'll be me who has to clean up the mess."
THE NEXT DAY
Sakutarō sat by the kitchen window, waiting for the Samurai to walk by the house. The Samurai would have usually come past by now.
"I guess he isn't going to show up today." Said the father. "I'll take the rice into the town with me."
"No!" Sakutarō shouted excitedly. "I'll have it."
"Okay... no worries" His father responded, smirking in shock at his son's outburst. "I'm taking Genji with me. We will be back soon."
Genji and his father made their way out the house, got on their horse and rode off. Sakutarō continued to sit, waiting and waiting. His eyes wide and focused, like an owl watching it's prey.
After nearly an hour, a feint figure could be seen in the distance. Sakutarō wiped his tired eyes and pressed his face against the window; trying to get a sharper look. It was the Samurai! He leapt for the bowl of rice, and like every other day, made his way outside. He stood there, legs shoulder width apart, holding the bowl out in front of him.
"I have a bowl of rice for you." Sakutarō exclaimed. As always, the Samurai made no notice of him and continued to walk past.
"Hey! I'm offering you food." Again, the Samurai continued to walk as if Sakuarō wasn't there. In an act of impulse, Sakutarō hurried towards the Samurai.
"At least show me respect and let me see your face!"
As he reached the back of the Samurai, he threw the bowl of rice at it. Upon impact, the Samurai spun around, catching the bowl without dropping a single grain. Sakutarō jumped at his hat with his left hand in an attempt to uncover his face. The Samurai caught his arm by the elbow, and lifted him off the ground so that Sakutarō's face was above his hat.
"Let go of me!" Sakutarō screamed. "I just want to see your face!"
The Samurai threw him to the ground, proceeding to place the bowl of rice onto the floor beside him. Sakutarō, with a bruised cheek, inspected his elbow. It was marked with the Samurai's fingerprints, almost resembling dark birthmarks.
As the Samurai turned away to continue his journey into town, Sakutarō whispered, "You WILL show me your face. I'll prove I'm worthy of seeing it."