Honors Blade

Lightning struck. With her hand on the hilt of her katana, Sunji faced her opponent, rain pelting down on her, dripping down her long dark hair and onto her cloak. Her heart thumped, her breathing labored. The chill of the night air cut into her, numbing her fingers. She wiped her face on her shoulder and tightened her grip, moving it across her body into a defensive position. “Yield!” she screamed.

Haruki rushed at her, quickly closing the distance between them. Sword raised high, he spun, cutting downwards. The slosh of his geta in the puddles slowed him down.

Their blades met with a ring. His eyes met hers. “You know I cannot do that,” he said, voice strained, muscles taut. He smelled of sweat, his dark hair pulled back in a blade beneath his straw hat. His dark eyes were filled with rage. “You betrayed the shogun.”

Lightning struck again, thunder rumbling across the fields around them. Beneath her heavy, waterlogged clothes, Sunji shifted on her feet, so his momentum sent his blade sliding down hers. She grasped her katana in both hands, intending to slice him down the back, but he spun and blocked her.

The ring of steel was a deafening bell in the deluge. Their swords crossed again, the force of the block jarring the rain from their sheaths, showering them in a cold spray. Sunji pushed the long, thin edge of Haruki’s katana inches from her eye. The weight of the sodden linen hakama and the mud-soaked tabi on her feet felt like anchors, robbing her of the speed she had mastered. His breath brushed against her face as he met her blade again.

She pushed against him, her arms shaking from the strain. “He ordered me to slaughter an entire town, including the women and children.” He was immovable. Too Strong.

Haruki’s brow creased. “Sunji, it’s your job to follow orders and not ask questions. You know this! Samurai are trained to follow orders. We are the swords of the shogun. Come with me, and you will receive mercy.”

“What mercy?!” she screamed, hot tears escaping and falling down her cheeks. The memories of the past echoed in her mind. A village. Choking smoke. Starving children in the street. The sweat of the troops at her back. They had been sent through the night to confiscate the stores and kill all the villagers. She had watched them fall and questioned everything she stood for. “Do you honestly think he would show me mercy if he wanted the children of his enemies dead?”

She saw the familiar flicker in his dark eyes. They told her everything. She knew the mistakes he always made. She tried the kasa-guruma disarm they practiced a thousand times on dry mats, twisting her wrists and rotating the hilt.

He countered instantly, the motion an echo of their shared training. The mud ruined her footing; instead of disarming him, the momentum broke her stance. He succeeded in throwing her backwards.

Sunji stumbled through mud puddles, trying to regain her footing. Icy Mud splattered up the inside of her pants, and she slammed her katana into the ground to secure her footing. Panting, she pulled her katana from the ground, wiping it on her cloak.

Lightning cut through the sky, followed by thunder. In the bright haze, she caught the solemn expression on his face. “Yes or no?” he demanded.

“I will never return! I won’t serve a butcher.”

“So be it,” Haruki rushed at her, and she met his blade, but her worn muscles gave way. He knocked her hand backwards; his blade stopped against her throat with expert precision.

Blood trickled from the wound. Her knees began to go weak, and her hands shook. She closed her eyes, preparing for the end. “Kill me,” she whispered.

Death did not come, only the feel of his breath on her skin. Silence rang through the night air, a deafening sound threatening to drown out the pattering rain. She opened her eyes.

Haruki stared at her, panting. His eyes met hers, softening, brow creasing. He pursed his lips, pulled the blade away, and looked away. “I…I can’t.” He turned, wiping his katana on his cloak, sheathing it in the cover at his waist. “Get away from here. Go as far away as possible.” He began to move along the road.

If Haruki had been sent to kill her, and he failed, the shogun would call for him to take his own life. She couldn’t allow that. She chased after him, taking hold of his arm. “Come with me, Haruki. Don’t go back, you will die.”

He threw her back into the mud. The icy water soaked into her cloak, pooling around her legs. She struggled against it, trying to free herself and return to her feet. Lightning struck once more, showing his regret. His pain. His doubt.

“No. My honor will not allow it.” He turned his back on her. A dark, lonely figure moving down the road, abandoning reason to serve his master.

“Please, Haruki.” She moved onto her hands and knees. “Your honor means nothing if you are dead! Honor is not obedience; it's having the courage to do what is right. It means protecting the weak. That is what you taught me. If you are dead, you can’t protect anyone.”

He hesitated, turning to face her. “You are a soldier. You have no right to determine what is right and wrong.”

“Help me do what is right and protect the weak. Live,” she pleaded, taking hold of the skirt of his cloak. Her hand weakened from the cold; his lack of response cut into her as sharply as his blade. Her tears ran in rivulets like the rain, pattering into the puddles. “Haruki, I need you to live,” she whimpered.

His hands enclosed hers in the puddles. He raised her onto her knees, their eyes meeting at the flash of lightning. Staring at her, his hands tightened on hers. It felt like he wanted to say something, but why wouldn’t he?

The cries of the shogun’s soldiers came from further along the road. He glanced behind him, “We have to get out of here if we are going to escape.”