“Hi.”

Kazu smiled meekly and held his hands up, showing he held no weapons. It was nothing he couldn’t talk himself out of. The old couple stood frozen in the doorway.

“I’m so sorry to intrude upon you like this. You see, my men and I were attacked last night… or was it a few night’s ago… it doesn’t matter, anyway we were attacked, and they took everything from us, I barely escaped with my life.” Most of it was the truth. Sometimes half truths fared much better than full ones. “I was just trying to find somewhere to rest, when…”

“Oh my, you poor dear.” The elderly woman finally entered and grabbed Kazu by the shoulders, directing him to the nearby chair he’d just had lunch in. The elderly man looked more suspicious, but as long as he could keep the woman in his good books they wouldn’t kick him out. He was lucky. Not all people - even friendly elderly women - looked so kindly upon finding a beat-up young man in their house unawares.

“Are you alright? Look at those scratches on your face. I don’t have much, but let me get something to clean it off. Dear, fetch him some food, would you?” The old woman shuffled away while the man, his gaze at Kazu unwavering, finally turned and went to retrieve the requested food. He returned with some fruit and nuts. Fancy. Not just any old farmer could afford to have that lying around.

“Thank you, you’re too kind.” Kazu gave his brightest smile and gratefully accepted the food. The woman returned with a bucket and cloth and began to carefully wipe the dirt and blood off his face.

“What’s your name, son?” the old man asked him. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed and eyes focused on Kazu. They almost burned.

“Kazu, sir. Just Kazu.”

“Well, just Kazu, you sure are a sight. What did you say happened to your men?”

“We were traveling from Konoe province to sell our wares. We’re traveling merchants.”

“That doesn’t look like a merchant’s outfit to me.”

Kazu looked down. He very much looked like a sell-sword.

“I took this from the men that attacked us. My clothing got torn apart in the battle and uh…”

“Uh huh.” The old man’s tone was dull, but he made no move to call any of the soldiers marching by outside. Perhaps grumpy was just his manner.

“We sell pottery, and sometimes highly crafted ceremonial weaponry. We donate those to temples, for good will, of course.” Kazu smiled again. The old woman finished cleaning his face and he nodded gratefully at her. He took a bite out of a persimmon and his eyes rolled back in pleasure.

“Ma’am, this is once again the most delicious thing I’ve tasted today.”

“Once again?”

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Whoops.

“I helped myself to some of your rice before… I’m sorry.”

She smiled. “Not at all, I’m glad it went to good use.”

“So like I was saying, they attacked us in the forest, killed the rest of the men I was traveling with, and then took off with our goods. I managed to kill one myself before I barely escaped with my life…”

“I’m truly sorry to hear that,” the old man replied and sat down opposite Kazu. He had seemingly decided Kazu was harmless after all. “I know many others don’t, but I have the utmost respect for craftsmen and merchants, particularly those that travel from town to town selling their goods. These great lands can’t operate without them.”

Kazu smiled and bowed his head again. “Thank you, sir.”

“My father was a merchant. He sold enough that when he passed on I was able to buy my own land, take a name, and though I may not look it, I was quite the successful samurai in my day.”

“A samurai?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” The old man gave a wry grin.

“No, no, not like that. I mean, the samurai… you can’t just become a samurai.”

The old man’s smile grew even larger. “Ah, but you can. With enough money, of course. It’s not like old times where only important clans could become samurai. Now, even the lowliest peasant can rise with enough initiative and skill behind him. And enough money, of course.”

So if the old man was a retired samurai, that meant they were wealthy. They’d have luxury goods. They’d be well-off. What a fortuitous find.

“I see. So do you still have your gear?”

The old man stood up. “Come with me.”

In the corner of the bedroom sat the former samurai’s gear. The sword, still gleaming and as sharp as the day it had been made, was clearly well looked after to this day. The helmet was rather plain and beat-up but dignified all the same. The body armour was clean and polished as well; as clean as it could be after endless years of battle, anyway. The Yashiro crest shone brightly on the chest.

“It’s beautiful,” Kazu whispered. It was the first time he’d seen a samurai’s gear up close. You generally only saw it right before you died. It stirred something deep inside him. That was the dream. Never having to worry about where your next meal would come from, a home to return to with servants, a wife, kids…

“You can rest up here, my wife and I still have work to do, but we’d love to have you join us for dinner tonight.”

Kazu bowed. “Thank you, sir. I truly appreciate it.”

He was asleep before he even hit the floor.

***

It was dark outside when Kazu opened his eyes. The sun was just setting. Or was it rising? He sat up and looked around. The old couple slept on the hard floor in the corner of the room. They had let him sleep the night through on their bed. He was oddly touched.

The samurai sword glistened in the corner. It called to him. The old man’s words returned to him; anyone with enough initiative could become a samurai now. He rose on unsteady feet, his face wincing in pain. He picked the sword up, holding it as though it were a newborn babe in his clumsy hands. It felt lightweight but sturdy. Powerful. Intimidating.

The couple were still asleep. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he thought to himself, as he took the sword and snuck past them. It was not part of his original plan, but one learnt to be adaptive on the road.

The streets were coming alive as the sun rose. Farmers were moving out into their fields, animals were being released, merchants were setting up their wares. In the distance Kazu could hear the sounds of the smith at work. But moreover there were soldiers. Soldiers everywhere. He hid the sword under his clothes, kept his head down, and made for the castle.

The original objective was to break into the castle grounds and take whatever they could before the guards were alerted and cut their heads off. A high risk venture, but with high risk gains. Now everyone was dead, and it wasn’t a job he fancied doing alone. Perhaps he could hide himself amongst the soldiers for a while. He was a Miharu man after all. Was it not his duty as a young, able-bodied man to join the war effort? He even brought his own weapon. A family heirloom.

“You there, halt!”

Kazu turned. A spear was pointed at his neck.