Sakutarō couldn't stop thinking about what had happened earlier. He couldn't imagine that the Samurai would be so strong.
"He didn't even drop a single grain of rice." Sakutarō said to himself. "He lifted me like nothing. With one hand. How long has he trained for? How many men has he killed with those hands?"
As he sat, he was trying to figure out a way of earning the Samurai's respect. But how? A challenge? A duel?
"A fight? But he would obviously win. You fool." Sakutarō said to himself, irritated. "But... I could try. Maybe my effort would make him respect me. Yeah... that's what I need to do. Earn his respect in combat."
Sakutarō looked out at the sky, trying to figure out how long until sundown. He went into his father's room, and took the Wakizashi that hung at the head of the bed.
"Good. This is small enough to hide." He hung it round his body, resting it behind his back, and put on his jacket to conceal it. He blew out most of the candles, leaving a few alight. He didn't want anyone to think the house was empty.
He made his way up the path, in the direction of which the Samurai would always appear. He had no idea where it was, but he knew the path would have to lead to a house eventually. For some reason, he didn't feel nervous. The warm air made him feel at ease. He knew there was nothing to lose, just something massive to gain.
After 20 minutes of walking, Sakutarō finally came across a small house. It seemed well maintained, with the grass and weeds that grew outside the entrance neatly trimmed. Every step he took towards the door, the sun continued to set. He couldn't see any light coming from within the house, but an upstairs window was halfway open. Someone was here. Once he struck up the courage, he knocked on the door.
He could hear footsteps approaching the door from the other side.
"Who is it?" A voice asked from inside.
"My name is Sakutarō. My father is Tōsō. I live down the path, towards the village centre."
Multiple locks on the door were undone, and the door opened.
"Ah yes, you do resemble your father." Upon opening the door, Sakutarō layed eyes on a frail old man. His back was hunched, one hand holding a walking stick, the other holding onto the door.
"My name is Hōkai."
"You know my father?" Sakutarō asked.
"Of course I do! He was a very bright young man. Handy with a sword, too. Although... I haven't left this house in many years."
"Why not?"
"I am much too weak. I have never really gotten over my illness."
"So how do you get food?"
"My son. He goes into town each day for me."
"Your son...? Your son goes into town?" Sakutarō had a shocked looked on his face. "Your son... the Samurai?!"
"The Samurai?!" Hōkai laughed out, leaning onto the wall to keep himself up. "My son is no Samurai! However, Daisuke does ask if I need anything on his way to the centre."
"Who's Daisuke?"
"The Samurai that you're referring to. His name is Daisuke."
"How do you know him?!" Sakutarō asked, taking an eager step towards the door.
"I was living here before he was even appointed as a Samurai. Of course, back then I wasn't this old, weak man I am now. I used to help Daisuke and Tōsō train when they were younger."
"You trained my father?"
"Oh yes, here and there. I had never seen two boys with such potential. The way of the sword isn't for everyone."
As surprised as Sakutarō was, there was one question he was urging to get off his chest.
"So you've seen Daisuke's face?"
"I have. Why? Why are you so interested in him?"
"The Samurai... Daisuke... that's who I'm looking for."
"For what exactly?"
"I have something of his... that I would like to return."
"He doesn't take well to random people going to his house, young Sakutarō."
"Well then I'll just leave it outside his door." Sakutarō gulped as he looked at Hōkai, pleading in his head for Hōkai to tell him where Daisuke lives.
"Hmmm... I guess it is a good thing, what you're trying to do. Daisuke told me once, he said, 'No good deed goes unnoticed.'"
Hōkai pulled himself through the open door, and turned his head towards the inclining side of the path.
"Once you get to the top, you will see it."
"Arigatō gozaimasu." Sakutarō bowed, and made his way up the short section of hill that remained.
Once he reached the top, the ground levelled out. There it was. Enclosed within a Nagayamon gate. Sakutarō, amazed by the architecture, began to circle around it. He was amazed at how beautiful it looked, yet, confused as to how Daisuke's clothes were so ragged. As Sakutarō continued to circle, he could hear voices coming from a nearby room within the wall. He started walking with intent, hoping to find exactly where it was coming from. He came across a narrow horizontal window. Luckily, there were nothing inside covering it. He climbed on a thin ledge, trying to get a look inside.
"The people are meant to feel safe around you." A voice inside stated.
Finally, having got both feet onto the ledge, Sakutarō was able to somewhat stand enough to look inside.
"Makoto?" Sakutarō said to himself. Makoto, the leader of the village, was standing and speaking with another individual. The second person was stood, back towards the window, so it was impossible to tell who it was.
"It is getting to the point where the people in the village are questioning why we require your service. The days of the Samurai are coming to an end. How many other villages still use the services of the Samurai?" Makoto continued.
The second person, in a navy Kimono, securing a Katana on the left side of his waist, finally responded.
"My job is to protect the village. From what I can see, everyone is safe. What more do they want? What more do you want?"
Makoto replied, "Daisuke, I'm commanding that you show some respect to the people. Your loyalty cannot be questioned, but the people are starting to catch on. No other surrounding village uses Samurai. The most you could do is show some respect when you see them. They don't hear anything from you besides 'arigatō' when they bring you your meals."
"With all due respect, I couldn't give a damn what the people think. If they don't want me, I'll gladly leave and offer my services to people that do."
"Daisuke... this isn't an ego test. Since I brought you in and took you under my wing, I have had no doubt in my mind that you are a son of mine. I have always treated you like my own. I have had a suspicion that the Samurai have been murdered. Executed by the government. You are safe within the village, Daisuke. So make it easier for me to keep you here."
"I don't need protection."
"When I took you in... and saved you from a life of misery... I made it my mission to turn you into a killer. A leader. I hoped that one day you could become the leader of this village. But, instead you hide away, treating the village like a kitchen. Only going for food."
"My mother was a whore. I had to find ways of looking after myself, feeding myself, clothing myself. I was already becoming a man. You didn't turn me into anything, Makoto, you just sped up the process."
"Dai--"
"Listen, you and Hōkai are the only people I humble myself to. Nothing will change that. No matter where you send me, and no matter what you ask me to do, I have always done it. If being more open with the people is what you now request of me... then so be it."
"I remember the first time I met you. You didn't bow. My men were outraged. I'll never forget what you said to me, you said, 'my mother told me to never lower myself for any human being. We are all equal before God.' I've never heard any such thing from a Buddhist before, so I knew you weren't."
"Yeah... and then I told you that my mother was not a Buddhist. I didn't know what she was exactly because we never had a conversation about it. But she would tell me things like, 'Do not pray to any statues. They can't save you. God does not live within our materialistic things.'"
"She was a wise woman, Daisuke. I know the morals she taught you are what makes you the man you are."
There was a pause, neither Makoto or Daisuke said a word. After a few moments, Makoto picked up his hat, and made his way out the door. Daisuke took a seat, back still towards the window, making it impossible for Sakutarō to see his face.
"Didn't your father teach you not to spy on people?"
Startled, Sakutarō fell back off the ledge onto the ground, landing on his back. In agonising pain, he coughed and quickly lifted himself up onto his knees.
"No wonder you're in pain." Makoto stated. "I guess it wasn't so wise to hide a Wakizashi behind your back."
"I'm sorry, I was --"
"I didn't ask for an explanation. Your father will deal with you, I'm sure of it."
Makoto grabbed Sakutarō's arm, and forced him in front.
"Walk." Makoto demanded. "You won't be able to walk this time tomorrow."