Chapter IV: Death of innocence

He spent the night restless. He managed to shut his eyes in order to rest a bit, but his hand was ready on his sword. After all, he was in the middle of a village that hated him.

When the first rays of the sun illuminated the valley, Kenzo was already up and packing. He felt the confines of the village restricting him, the walls of the tavern crushing him. He was used to the wilderness. Even if he had no purpose anymore, he would have to go somewhere that gave him freedom, in order to rest.

The village roads seemed empty. Apparently the farmers got up even before him. He was glad that this wasn’t the path he had chosen for his life. Three figures that seemed to be out of place were walking the streets. From their armament he recognized them as soldiers. Instinctively, his hand moved towards his katana. After all, the soldiers were notorious for their stupidity.

But those three looked different. They were walking cautiously, peeking around the corners on the streets, like they looked for something to suddenly appear out of there. He saw them halting before an old man. He was the same that he had seen the previous day. He stopped in his tracks to see how all this would play out.

“So elder… we have come to negotiate the wheat that your village owns us.”

“So be it…” The voice of the elder showed defeat.

The soldiers on the other hand were still looking around them. “Where is your idiotic protector?” One of them asked.

The silence of the elder told volumes. One of the soldiers burst out laughing. “So he has left at last eh?” His laughter was interrupted by a piercing scream.

Before anyone could react a boy darted like an arrow, knife on his hand towards the soldier. One second later the boy fell. The soldier’s blade was stuck on his chest. Hiro’s eyes seemed to scan the area; they stopped when they reached Kenzo’s.

“I guess I was too weak to kill…” Were his last words.

Kenzo was lost. He was watching young Hiro bleed his life’s water to the fertile land. The tanto he had given him was inches away from his hand. He felt eyes upon him. They were no words to describe the glare that the elder was giving him. Even the soldiers were looking inquiring towards him, all except one, the soldier that had killed Hiro. He was looking as if he was lost in his space. His thoughts split between the act that he had done, and the consequences that it might had to the village’s mentality.

Abruptly, the leader of the soldiers broke the silence. “You understand now old man? We will take what is our lord’s. And for this assassination attempt you must pay.”

Kenzo felt crushed by the intense eyes of the elder. If he hadn’t lost the little dignity that was left on him he may had run, but a fast pace was all that he allowed himself.

When he lost sight of the village, his inhibitions dropped. Under the bright sun he was, now, fervently sprinting. He tried through physical exhaustion to clear his mind, to keep the invading thoughts from turning him insane. When night fell, he was on an unknown forest.

Tired and broken he laid down to sleep. The chill of the spring was making him shiver, his sweat that had drench his clothes only made it worse. He searched for comfort on the stars, but even they seemed to twinkle and fade as heavy clouds were covering them. He felt as if those clouds were sent by the heavens to deny him their sight.

He couldn’t close his eyes. Every time he tried that the image of the dead eyes of Hiro was filling him. There was no reason for it. He had killed many people. Why those eyes stayed? Never had he remorse for his actions. Why did this one dead mattered more than the others? He had used countless people, many times, to do his dirty deeds. Even small kids, like Hiro, he had sometimes manipulated so as to help him gain entrance to a mansion, or to slip a poison in a drink.

Sometime in the dark he had found the answer he sought. All those people that laid dead because of him, had died so that he could met and face Ryu. Each one of them had served his purpose. But not Hiro, this child had died for no reason at all. Lie. He had died because he was the only one who had listened to him.

A memory kept repeating itself in his mind, a young boy, samurai Ryu taking away his weapons, a young boy, Kenzo giving him weapons. He couldn’t understand why he kept seeing himself as Hiro. He was reliving his time as a young boy that Ryu had given him weapons, and died immediately after, while trying to kill Ryu. In the end, he knew. It was Ryu who had saved his young life by taking away his weapons; it was Kenzo that had killed Hiro by giving him those.

“…Let Ryu’s foolishness teach you…”

“…Compare my life young one with Ryu’s and learn. If you are too weak to kill then you die…”

Yes, he would grow nicely; he would become a fierce warrior like himself.

It was painful…

His life now had no meaning. He had killed Ryu. He felt empty. From now on he knew that he was destined to travel alone, without cause. Everyone he had met despised him. Now that Ryu was out of the picture, he couldn’t imagine what he should do next. He had burned his life out for revenge. Only one person had taken interest to him. Only a child was willing to learn what his life had taught him. And now, Hiro was dead.

Kenzo awakened. Sometime in the night, slept must have crept on him, releasing him from his torment. The dark clouds on the sky seemed to reflect his mood. Not a single ray of light penetrated them, not a shred of hope existed. His mind was blank now. No memories, no pain, just a path existed. He felt moisture on his cheeks. He doubted that it was just the morning dew.

Kenzo started walking towards the village again. Everyone there hated him, rightfully so. But he had found his answers in the night winds. A child has died because he had refused to teach him. What he loathed more, he had become. Kenzo, who knew only revenge, would take the revenge that the boy wished. The soldiers would perish. The village would be free. Even if not a single peasant spoke to him, he would relish them of their torment. Else, he couldn’t hope to relish himself.

As he walked towards the village, he saw that the clouds were telling that a storm was ready to erupt…

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