Chapter 1

The sun rays beamed upon Hikaru as he knelt, crossed legged on the smooth, dojo floor. Warmth caressed him from the light, granting him comfort. Content, he dulled his senses and meditated.

Peace

Harmony

Tranquillity

His mind wafted amongst the precepts, faithfully reciting these mantras to himself as he composed his breathing. He let his body relax and fall into a state of bliss as he felt his skin connect to the fabric of his garments, and the weight of his armour guarding his fragile figure. He and the armour were one. A soothed soul, ready for war.

Releasing a deep breath, Hikaru steadied himself and lifted his eyelids, allowing the sun to enter his visored eyes and brighten his dark, safe place. He saw the dojo decorated with its calligraphic paintings and wooden blades, encircling a pure shrine which paid its piety to immortal deities of yore. All dedicated to the sacred art of Kendo.

He could feel the call of history and tradition around him, tugging at his being and gnawing at his peace. Protect it, cherish it, Inherit it. Hikaru pushed the thoughts away. For he desired none of this calling. Aware of all things, he could feel the peace overwhelm him as he homed in upon his true desire. The will to escape. His eyes sharpened as he channelled this peace into the power to confront the jailor of his freedom. Kneeling down at Hikaru’s far side, deep in meditation, was an elder guardian of the shrine preparing to defend his legacy.

A father, waiting to humble his child.

Anxiety encroached on Hikaru as he knelt there, staring at his parent. He breathed another deep breath and focused. Now was not the time to let past grievances intrude. Gripping his shinai, he lifted himself off the ground. His father mirrored him, pushing his elderly bones to face his dear son. Standing opposite one another, the two men bowed a deep sign of respect: a sign of war. They raised their shinai high and held it in front, angling the tips towards their foe, their legs separated one behind the other, weight pushed upon their toes; they stood in silence. A tranquil harmony, for the two warriors awaiting their bout; honouring the ancestral samurai spirits who laid their path before them.

Hikaru screamed a battle cry and leapt forward. He swung his blade down from the sky, aiming towards the slats of the men helmet, hoping for a quick and decisive victory. Such foolish desires were dashed as his blade was deflected in an instant and the two collided in the centre, guard to guard, pushing against one another, each aided by a furious will of their own. One to escape, one to contain.

The two men shoved the other back, leaping away for the next assault. In an instant Hikaru had slid forward once more, throwing a flurry of rage-filled strikes towards his father’s head. One by one, they were all deflected down, parried away, blocked to the sides as Hikaru could find no opening within the perfect guard. The meditative peace he had created as a barrier from the truth chipped away with each and every failed blow; replaced instead by the resurfacing anxiety that had never left.

As Hikaru lifted his blade for another blow, his father swiftly met his shinai above his helmet and twisted it to the floor. Followed by a quick lifting of his weapon and a slice downwards. Anxiety turned to panic. In desperation, Hikaru pushed his sword to meet his father’s descending judgment, wishing against all to prevent the wood from colliding with his visor. A loud clang rang through the dojo as Hikaru dragged his shinai upwards and deflected the weapon sideways, throwing his all into a vengeful attack at his opponent.

It struck air. His old man had already retreated a few paces and now stood, shinai pointed forwards, goading his son into another bout. Panting for breath, Hikaru wondered in that moment what his father thought beneath the mask. Was it a thirst for battle? Was it pride in his son’s abilities? Or was it disappointment? He never did know with the old man.

Sweat dripped from Hikaru’s black hair as he coughed, choking from the stuffy air inside his headgear. He calmed himself and attempted to regain the peace. Suddenly, his father had stepped forwards and engaged once more. Hikaru yelped and leapt backwards, pushing the strike aside as he retreated. His father did not stop. Continuing his rampage, marching ever onwards, each step bringing a strike more powerful than the last, each blow eating away at Hikaru’s sapped energy. There was no mercy in the heat of battle.

The bombardment of strikes continued until Hikaru found he could retreat no further. In that moment, he made his last stand. Deflecting another hit with great effort, he eyed a swing being prepared by the looming swordsman, who was almost upon him. With nothing left to lose, Hikaru threw his sword out to beat down the rising blade and slice at his father’s head. As the two met, Hikaru could feel his blade pushing the opposing shinai away. The opportunity had risen! The aged hand, whilst slight, shook in hesitation. With speed and elation, the likes of which he had never felt, Hikaru raised his shinai and fuelled all of his might into the final strike, ending the years long bouts of defeat and gaining his free-

A loud slap smacked his ears as his shinai was beat from his grip and flew in the air, clattering into the dojo wall. A sharp weight atop his head.

Defeat emerged as he saw his father’s shinai, extended outwards and placed upon his skull. Through the lattices of the opposing headguard, Hikaru could make out his father’s old eyes. Blank eyes, which betrayed nothing.

Holding his emotions down, the two warriors retreated from their position and faced one another, bowing. The match was over.

Hikaru removed his helm and gasped for breath, the summer air cooling his sweat-drenched skin. His father did the same. The boy scrunched his face as he saw his father, like always, showed no expression nor signs of exhaustion upon his ageing features.

“You have improved, Hikaru” he stated as he knelt and began to remove his garments.

“Thank you, father” Hikaru replied, mimicking his father’s movements by clambering to the ground and picking at his armour straps.

“You still have much to learn before you are to inherit the dojo” the old man said as he stood up, armour all removed and wearing just his training gown.

“Yes… father” Hikaru replied, a hint of longing in his voice. He hoped his father had not noticed.

Scrunching his nose, the old man stared down Hikaru with hard eyes, eyes which Hikaru had known for a lifetime, before saying “No, my son. Remove from yourself those thoughts. Your calling is to this dojo and this house alone”.

“But fath-” Hikaru began to cry aloud.

His voice reached nothing. For the old man had already turned and left the room without another word.

With a sigh of exhaustion, the boy fell back onto the floor and shifted his view onto the old, wooden ceiling. Hikaru had failed yet again. Eighteen long years of practice had amounted to this. Eighteen years of training almost every day, studying the art of Kendo, and dedicating himself to the blade. All, so he could defeat his stubborn old man and escape his supposed birth right. And yet, there was nothing to show. He was still bound to this place, trapped as the heir, and destined to inherit a dojo of which he showed no interest in.

A sense of hopelessness coursed through as Hikaru groggily pushed himself from the floor and moved to clean the dojo, the reward of the defeated. He gathered his soaked garments and left to rest for the coming day of school.

The next day, after Hikaru had eaten his breakfast and prepared to leave, he was greeted at the doorway by his younger brother: Tsuki.

“You lost again” the younger boy spoke, eyeing his brother with his dark grey eyes, as he stood leaning on the wall of the entranceway. Blank eyes, which reminded Hikaru too much of his shortcomings.

“Yes, Tsuki. I lost” Hikaru replied, hurriedly shoving on his outdoor shoes to escape the confrontation. Seeing this, Tsuki slid the door open and stepped into the fresh morning air of the Japanese countryside.

“You should hurry, Hikaru. We will be late for class if you are any slower” Tsuki yawned and began to walk up the hill towards their high school.

Seeing as there was no escape from the awkward conversation, Hikaru dropped his shoulders to carry his bag and surrendered to fate. He stepped out from the doorway and into the open road.

“Why do you choose to deny your birth right?” Tsuki asked as he sensed Hikaru trudging behind.

“Tsuki, you know I how I feel about this dojo. I, I don’t want it. I don’t want to be trapped here all my life” Hikaru replied, venting out his frustrations, appealing to his brother as if trying to convince him.

“Yes, I do know. I have known for a long time about your dreams” Tsuki sighed.

“Then you would know why I challenge father. If I defeat him, I can leave this place behind and choose my own path in life”.

“Your own path. And what may that be?”

“To leave this place behind and see what else the world has for me. Freedom. That’s what I want” Hikaru choked, as he thought of the wider world and how different a path it would be.

“That may be so, but do you truly believe it is the correct path?”

Hikaru stopped motionless. For as long as he could remember, his one goal in life was to escape this town. This idyllic and peaceful lifestyle of caring for the dojo and training the practitioners may have been fulfilling to his father, but to Hikaru, it was a tedium he could live without. He envied the people in the cities, the Tokyo commuters with all of their new technologies and connections to the rest of the world. All his life Hikaru had felt it unfair that he could not have such privileges for himself. And yet, his brother’s question had cracked the glass shard that had been his desires, reaching something that was beyond the shattered pane.

“Come, brother. You are drifting further behind!” Tsuki called from atop the hill. Hikaru shook himself of his trance and rushed to meet his brother. The two stood aloft the paved ridge, looking over the barrier at the valley and the rural town below. It felt so isolated to Jun, so trapped in a place far from civilization, bereft of any opportunity and joy.

“Tsuki, why do you ask me that? I’ve always said I’ve wanted to leave” Jun pleaded to his brother, the question still lingering within his mind.

“The fact you question me, only serves to show your lack of true commitment”. The younger brother turned to face Hikaru, laying his sombre gaze upon the fleeting eyes of his brother. “You may say that your will is escape but my eyes did not betray me…” He raised his hand, miming the grip of a sword and struck it in the empty air.

“…when victory was within your grasp, you could have seized it with your blade and earned your freedom” the boy said, holding his gaze.

“What, what do you mean? If you saw the match then you would know father beat my blade away and-”

“And that occurred because you delayed, hesitated even” Tsuki stated, voice soft.

“I, that’s not true, Tsuki! I was too slow!” Hikaru exclaimed aloud, his disbelief growing.

“And why were you too slow?”

Hikaru had no response. Heart in torment at the words his brother wrought.

“You know the truth, dear brother, that you do not truly want to escape. A part of you inside still clings to this place as your home. Whether it is duty to our family, or the fear of the unknown, I cannot say. Only you know what lies within. But my eyes did not deceive me. I saw no warrior. You were nothing but a man who lacked conviction, who rejected his freedom, and chose to stay, locked in his shackles”.

Tsuki turned and prepared for the final steps to school.

“Prepare yourself, brother. Our bout is tonight. I hope you are ready”. Tsuki walked away, leaving Hikaru alone.

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Hikaru gazed once more to the town below. Anger, jealousy, hate; his emotions were a mess that seemed undecipherable. He had focused on his goal for so long that he had ignored his other side, faint as it was. It was the side that he had pushed deep into the recesses of his soul, hoping it would never resurface and instead fade away into a distant memory. What Tsuki had said was true. He wanted to leave. Every duel and every sweat and tear he had shed for the sole purpose of winning his freedom and escaping. It had not been without purpose.

But the truth was, something chained him to this place. And he did not know what it was.

The school day passed in a long and gruelling fashion. Final days before the summer break were always filled with excitement amongst the student body, as their minds focused on anything other than the subjects they had been forced to learn. Discussions and a general buzz resonated throughout the school as the students spoke of their plans for the summer. Some would go abroad to visit new and exotic locations. Others would see distant family who lived across Japan. Hikaru however, listened mind absent to these topics with disinterest. His mind also wandered to all the different places he could visit and all the things he could do. And anywhere it drifted to, the chains followed. So evident was his mood that his fellow classmates had made sure to stay away as he sat in his lonesome, staring out the window and wondering how on earth he was going to defeat his brother in his current state.

The school bell rang, sounding louder than usual as a cheer erupted from Hikaru’s fellow classmates. They packed their books into their bags and dispersed within their friend groups, all leaving the now barren classroom behind. All except Hikaru. Sighing, he lifted his head from his desk, grabbed his near empty bag and walked down to the school gymnasium. Kendo club was holding its final session for the term, and he had agreed to participate. Entering, he passed by the large line of armoured students who looked in awe as they watched him set his belongings down, collect his equipment and enter the changing room, all whispering amongst themselves rumours of his supposed strength. Hikaru blocked his ears as he had learned to tune all of this out over the years but, today the whispers were louder than usual. It was after all, the first time they would ever see the two brothers duel.

As he left the room, having changed out of his uniform and into his garments, he was greeted by the sight of the Kendo club captain standing over him, arms fidgeting in place as he began to speak.

“First off, I would like to say thank you so much for agreeing to this fight. I know it’s just first to two, but all of us here are very much looking forward to seeing you duel”. The captain said, as he motioned over to the center of the gym. There, Tsuki sat. His legs crossed with his headguard and shinai beside him, silver hair reflecting the light; deep in meditation, just as their father had taught them.

Rolling his eyes, Hikaru turned to the captain and forced his cheeks to rise “Don’t worry about it. I guess it is rare for the number one and two ranked in the prefecture to fight one another. Especially since we train at home. So, I understand where you’re coming from”. Hikaru cringed on the inside and suppressed his face from producing a contorted expression, despising the connotations with which his rank labelled him. The captain did not notice his discomfort however, and nodded, beaming his way.

“Well, whenever you’re ready, Hikaru” he said as he turned away to join the line. Hikaru walked over to the center and sat himself down upon the dusty floor. Now, of all times, was not the place for a fight.

After some brief moments of meditation, Hikaru felt his peace returning. The doubts still hung at the edge of his mind, but Hikaru pushed them away and hoped they would not interfere. He stood to begin the bout. Tsuki nodded and the two bowed to one another before they each gripped their weapons tight, pointing them forwards. Then, the two boys engaged in combat, to a chorus of gasps from their peers.

It was Hikaru’s blade which struck first. He flung himself into Tsuki’s waiting stance and aimed for the skull. Tsuki deflected in kind as he shifted gracefully away, preparing for his brother’s rabid assault. Just as before, Hikaru levelled a slice downwards and inched forward as Tsuki deflected to his right. Another strike bore down upon him to be deflected with Tsuki jumping backwards to meet a flurry of strikes, which collided with his shinai in quick succession.

Hikaru’s all out aggression met Tsuki’s precise parries, the slap of wood ringing throughout the gymnasium. Onlooking students gawked in awe at the skill on display. Anticipation grew with each blow as they wondered if the younger brother would break first, or if the elder sibling would soon tire and retreat. Hikaru, however, knew Tsuki. Despite the continuous attacks, he kept his mind alert. Tsuki, like the patient hunter, could counter at any moment. It was time for a change in battle plan.

Hikaru raised his shinai and pummelled it down towards Tsuki’s head. The younger boy raised his blade to deflect as he did before. To his shock, his brother delayed the moment of attack by an inch and drew his sword back. Tsuki tried to time his defence to block off the attack but, he was too late. Accepting his fate, he felt the hard wood hit his helm as Hikaru scored the first point.

The brothers stood gazing at one another between their visors for a brief interlude, before the crowd erupted in awe as the tension shattered with the cheers.

“Impressive, your change in pace was most surprising” Tsuki stated as he walked back over to his starting position. Hikaru grunted in response, mind readying itself once more. As he stared at his brother, who was preparing to restart, Hikaru found himself drifting. Tsuki’s figure flashed into memory as he was thrust back into the conversation atop the hill. In that moment, he blinked, and his brother was beside him, shinai tapped upon his helm.

“Do try to focus, dear brother”.

An audible gasp played across the line as the recovering crowd attempted to take in what their eyes beheld. As his brother lifted the blade from his head, Hikaru cursed beneath his breath as he swore he had seen a smirk poking out beneath Tsuki’s visor. Calming himself, he shook his shoulders and lifted his blade once more. He pushed away all other distractions to the best of his ability and stood, ready. The final point would not be his to lose.

A guttural scream erupted from the Hikaru as he charged Tsuki, throwing everything he had into the next round. Releasing a whirl of blades, his surroundings blurred till all that remained within his mind, was the impulse to destroy his rival. Wood clashed with wood as slaps rang out with such force, it stung at the ears of the observers. They did not care. For their eyes were graced with the beauty of the two brothers, mesmerised within a mirage of violent blows. Strike upon strike landing atop deflection upon deflection, siblings lost within a blade dance all too familiar to the other, as each unshackled their spirit from within to conquer. Mere moments had passed to Hikaru as he struck, unrelenting in his advance, firm in his belief that Tsuki would yield.

Then, he felt a strong hit. His blade gave way and pushed to his right as his gripped failed him. Panic set in as he tried to steady his shinai and deflect, but to no avail. He watched as Tsuki’s swift counter descended from the heavens to end this wild clash. A roar cried out from inside Hikaru as he forced his feet to leap back, in a final attempt to avoid his impending loss. For a brief moment, the blade seemed to miss and fall below Hikaru’s head. Hope resurfaced in Hikaru as his hold of the blade returned and he began to lift a last-ditch counter.

A crack rang through the hall. Hikaru’s blade was slammed aside. His brother’s sword returned skyward and struck down. It tapped Hikaru’s helm at its centre point and pushed the flailing boy down.

Slamming into the floor, Hikaru’s eyes lost vision.

They opened to the sight of Tsuki’s shinai stabbed directly at his throat, ready to end his rival. Through the visors, Hikaru saw only those grey eyes staring back. Emotionless.

Cheers erupted from the crowd as they yelled in excitement to Tsuki’s victory. The boy holding the weapon out nodded at his fallen brother and retreated, sheathing his blade. Hikaru sighed as he accepted his defeat and tallied the record.

44-44.

Even as always.

Groaning, he stood up from his spot and faced his brother. The two bowed, signalling the end of the duel.

With heavy breaths, Hikaru took his helmet off and allowed the cool air to grace his sweat-filled face. He was greeted by a horde of students who had begun to swarm the two boys.

“That was amazing! How many times have you fought!”

“Ah well Its just-” he tried to reply.

“You must train really hard to be that good!”

“No not at-”

“How do I become like you?”

“What? Uh-”

“Can I have your number?”

“Ehhhh?” Hikaru cried as the sounds and voices flooded his eardrums, burning Hikaru’s cheeks a bright red.

In the midst of the swarm, his vision caught upon a tuft of silver hair, slipping his way through the crowd, and making his way to the exit, somehow fully changed with schoolbag in hand.

That brat! He can’t leave me alone to this Hikaru thought from within as he slowly answered each and every person who approached him from the never-ending sea of people. Gulping he took one last breath and surrendered.

Please come back…

After what had seemed like countless hours, Hikaru, social battery drained, lay on the floor of gymnasium in the dark, alone. Exhausted, he ignored his aching joints and walked over to the changing room, changing into his regular clothes. Relief washed over him as he realised summer break had finally begun. Gathering his belongings, he left the hall behind and set off for home. Now relaxed, a small excitement ran through Hikaru as he began to plan for the things he would do over the long break. Like always a trip to the mountain onsen was on the itinerary, as was a few days relaxing at home doing nothing. After such frolicking, Hikaru decided he would get back to training and prepare to gain his free-

His freedom. The thoughts had returned yet again like an infinite spiral he was perpetually trapped within. The freedom he had sought for so long, and yet did not truly want.

What do I want…

Hikaru pondered to himself, blocking out the world as he entered into his mind’s eye yet again.

So deep was he in thought, that he did not notice when his body had walked into the metal bar that stood at the ridge of the hilltop overlooking town. He yelped as he almost tripped over and fell into the deep valley below. Gasping for breath, he stepped back, averting his eyes upward and looked towards the bright lights which lay across the fields.

His body froze. An idea had started to form within and, despite not knowing the outcome or whether he was just grasping at straws, Hikaru seized the idea and ran down the hill, past his house and onto the main road leading into town.

The breathless boy stood in front of the convenience store which lay at the near side of the small town. Its light beamed out into the darkness and brightened Hikaru’s panting figure. This was the shop that he and Tsuki had often visited on their evenings after elementary school. He smiled as fond memories from his childhood resurfaced, whisking him away to a time before. He remembered the ice cream he had flung at his brother as a joke, to commemorate his first ever defeat to Tsuki. His brother had never let him off for that. Sighing, Hikaru walked down the long, empty street and contemplated upon the buildings which had held little meaning to him for so long, until now.

Passing the barbeque skewer shop, which the old Obaa-san had ran, Hikaru remembered her chasing him down the street for knocking over a few skewers from the display, having tripped over a stone as he had approached to buy some skewers after a long day of training. The escape seemed like such a rush back then as he recalled the fence he had hopped to avoid his payment. A pang of regret resurfaced, as he realised he never did apologise for the ruckus. Alas, the chance would not arise again. For the old lady had passed a few years ago, finally succumbing to old age. Hikaru batted his eyelids quickly as he felt a dampness intrude. Walking onwards, he saw the shrine where he would pray for good fortune in his grades and tournaments, the barber shop where the old owner still smoked his cigar into the dead hours of the night, even the mattress store was still there. How it survived with no customers, Hikaru would never know.

Reaching the end of the long street, Hikaru turned and laid his eyes upon the quiet town once more. It dawned on him that the chains he had felt, whilst heavy, were not something which weighed down on him. It was something that he could bring with him anywhere. The feelings of happiness and nostalgia, the memories of his time growing up, his place in this town. They all jumbled and mashed together inside of him to create a safe place that he could always fall into.

It was the feeling of home.

Hikaru smiled, content. The desire to leave had not been a wrong one. In the end, he had been scared to leave. He had been afraid to venture into the wide world alone. But now, he realised he could always return if things did not work out. And the uncertainty from before, vanished. A new resolve forming in its place. He would leave this town, he would follow his desires and venture forth to places unknown just as his heart yearned, and he vowed he would return one day, bringing his experiences and journeys to share with the place which had raised him.

Following this epiphany, Hikaru walked across the street and started his trek home. He had not walked longer than ten minutes when he arrived by the fields which he saw from the hilltop earlier. His eyes scoured the empty land and watched as the ground lay still within the dim light of the evening sky. With his final location visited, Hikaru began to turn-

A shimmer broke over the surface of the air, causing Hikaru to do a double take. Floating in the middle of the field, above the barren grass, was a shimmer of light. As quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared into nothing. A sense of trepidation overcame Hikaru as he began to hurriedly walk away, wanting nothing to do with ghosts or spirits and such. It was probably just a perception trick anyway.

But, what if it was the paranormal or supernatural? What if it was something that he would never be able to see again, a once in a lifetime opportunity that would never present itself to his mortal life, so long as he lived. Curiosity took over.

Gritting his teeth, Hikaru turned and stomped into the field, attempting to muster any small ounces of courage he had left as he walked, headfirst into the spot where the shimmer had been.

His skull smacked on solid air as he crashed straight into a translucent wall. Hikaru cried aloud as he fell back in pain, gripping his head as his brain tried to process what it was that he had collided with. Jumping back up, Hikaru held an arm out to see if the wall was still there. He gasped aloud as his hand felt the solid air, shimmering and waving in the dark. Shocked, he looked around to see if there was anyone else around, wondering if this was just another prank with high tech projection science or air manipulation. His eyes saw nothing. He was alone.

His hands shook as he felt his every heartbeat, thumping whilst he stood there, feeling the soft but solid wall, mind a swamp of questions. A part of him wanted to run and never look back. Leave all of this and return to normalcy and pretend this never happened, it was surely safer that way. But, his other side, it urged him to press on. To see if he could pass the wall and discover what lay beyond. To trespass into the unknown. Sweat trickled down his cheeks as he stood staring into the shimmering dark.

Hikaru screamed. Frustrated at his indecisiveness, he punched his hand at the wall. To his shock it swallowed the fist whole, causing his panic to increase. He pulled his hand out in a hurry and backed away to check if anything had damaged his hand. It was unscathed. Now knowing it was safe, he plunged both hands back into the wall and began to pry the shimmer open. The wall was firm, but he could feel its soft, wavey texture separating. With all his might, Hikaru pulled as he focused his every ounce of strength on this opportunity. It mattered not if what lay beyond was safe or dangerous, Hikaru knew he would never forgive himself if he did not try.

His mind blanked. And he was left in the perfect black. Matter turned ethereal as though there was no body. There was no touch, no smell, no feel, or any of the senses. Only his soul remained.

A light appeared in front of him. It was a small but calming light, flickering in the darkness.

Suddenly it expanded all around him, burning Hikaru with intense flames and abstract shapes, the likes of which were so foreign and awe-inspiring, his only thought became: Divine

“My child. Have you come to seek me”.

Hikaru did not respond as he was overwhelmed by the pure light.

“Is it your desire to pass beyond the barrier and into the light”.

“I-I…Yes. Let me through” Hikaru choked.

“So be it.”

The flames flared ever brighter as Hikaru immolated in the presence of such blinding radiance. A force came upon him, and he felt himself flung into the fiery abyss.