After a hearty meal, Gintaro and his small party received their due rewards from the Usagi daimyō. They were given a pair of fresh horses, large white beasts that were well-bred and trained. The daimyō was unable to part with more than two, for he needed enough to make it back to Usagi Province hastily to prepare for the upcoming war. This worked out well, for they still had the horse Nō rescued from the clutches of the Tengu, which was steadily growing into a fine steed. The daimyō has also given them a large wallet of coin and three fresh uniforms of the Usagi house. They were to wear these whenever they came to a checkpoint along the highway to disguise themselves. Finally, and most importantly, Usagi hand-wrote a letter and stamped it with his personal seal. It was an authentic letter, the kind he would often send to his estate in the New Capital. This gave them the critical alibi that they needed to get through the checkpoints.
“It goes without saying that they must never discover that it was I who helped you,” the daimyō explained. “If you are caught, you will tell them that you intercepted my men, taking these disguises for yourselves.”
The three nodded, understanding what they were to do.
“Hopefully, you are not caught and can get to the city in time. Ride hard, but do not stray far from the road, and ride only during the day. I know you may want to go faster, but if anyone catches you riding by night it will seem suspicious. Official couriers do not usually ride throughout the night unless it is critically urgent. These are troubled times. The Shōgun will want to investigate any anomaly. Do not give him any cause to do so.”
Gin bowed low. “I understand. I cannot thank you enough for giving us this opportunity.”
“You earned it,” the old man chuckled, looking over at his worn-out servants and sons, a few of whom wore bandages and were nursing injuries. “There is one last thing. Once you reach the New Capital, you will probably have to find a way into the castle itself. I have a man who goes by Matsumoto, who may be able to help. He is no longer a servant of my house, but he is a loyal and good man. Seek him out if you run into trouble.”
“I shall.”
“I hope you find her, Gintaro,” the daimyō concluded, his voice becoming soft. “I really hope you can find the happiness that you are seeking.” He smiled, but there was melancholy in the lines of his aged face.
With that, they parted from the Usagi contingent and left the dōjō under the blaze of a setting sun. They had decided to leave the Old Capital the following morning and so made for the inn for one last night. It had been a long and tiresome day. Everyone agreed that they could use the rest before they were out in the wilderness once again.
When they finally returned to the inn, the stars were sparkling brightly above. Gin and Saru went to bed immediately, but Nō went back to the garden in the rear courtyard to give the log a few more tries.
When Gintaro woke up the following morning, the sunlight was piercing through the paper doors as if it were right behind him. He could see that Nō’s futon had not been touched. He turned his head towards Saru who was also awake, and she seemed to have noticed Nō’s absence as well. After searching the inn, they both wandered out back and found him at the pond, standing upon the floating log. He was swinging an old tree branch since his wooden sword had been broken in Gin’s bout with the Usagi.
Gintaro crossed his arms and looked indignant. “So, you were out here all night? Don’t you know we have a long day of hard riding ahead of us? I need you to be alert and ready!”
Nō turned suddenly and almost lost his balance, but his feet gripped the slick bark, and he steadied himself with outstretched arms.
He exhaled nervously. “I just...I...” he stammered. “After watching you fight yesterday, I just couldn't leave here without doing my best to complete the task.” He looked down, dejected. “I am sorry, Sensei.”
Gin’s stern countenance slowly melted into a forgiving smile. “Do not let it happen again. However, because you were able to accomplish the task, I suppose I should give you some kind of a reward.”
The young man’s eyes lifted. “Reward?”
“Yes. Today you can ride all day and get some rest. Your horse has gotten plenty of food and relaxation being lodged here, and I think he is looking a bit like the new horses we received from Usagi. Saru and I will split the burden of the Tengu’s armor, just for today.”
“Really?” Nō gasped, soaking in the good news. It was at this moment of excitement that he leaned backward a little too far and ended up falling into the dirty pond with a loud splash.
“Get yourself ready,” his teacher commanded, trying to hold back a laugh. “We will leave within the hour.”
They left the city in much better spirits than they had entered it, and for the first time since the battle with the merchant in black, Gintaro felt as though he had a real chance of rescuing his daughter. With their bodies fresh and strong beasts beneath them, they rode out over the western bridge of the Old Capital and began upon the famous stretch of road that connected the two great cities of the Islands, the Nagamichi Highway.
The foundation of what would become the Nagamichi Highway was laid many years before the War of Ashes, but as with most of the roads of the Islands, it had become too dangerous to see regular use during the war. The road itself was exceptionally long and thus passed through multiple territories. In those days, traversing the full stretch of the Nagamichi in its entirety was quite a feat, and it required a significant amount of luck and skill.
When the war ended, the Shōgun set about rebuilding the roads, and the Nagamichi became his first project, being the primary artery between the Old Capital and New. As the New Capital began to rise in popularity, vast numbers of people migrated there to establish themselves in the new center of government and commerce. Some of these people had come from the Old Capital, but there were also those from all over the Islands, even from its furthest corners. Travel had become safe once again, and trade began to expand. Thus, it came to be that the traffic was thickest along the Nagamichi, which had thousands of people, horses, carts, and other modes of transport using it each day.
The famous highway also had dozens of stations, or checkpoints, where people would be questioned and inspected by the Shōgun’s soldiers. Around these checkpoints, villages and even cities began to grow. It had become not only a bridge between two great cities but a wellspring for others to start and grow.
It would take about three to four weeks to travel between capitals, and this was considering that they had fresh horses and express passage through the checkpoints due to Usagi’s letter. For most people, it took much longer.
Despite their clever disguises, Gin was nervous as they approached the first checkpoint in a small rice village called Aya. As they drew closer to the guardhouse to sign the ledgers and pay the tolls, he spotted a wanted poster with a picture of his face drawn upon it. It was not a very flattering depiction, for he looked much older and angrier than usual, with deep, dark creases on his face. But it was a reminder to everyone, and he grew anxious that the disguises and papers that Usagi had given them would not be enough. As official couriers of a daimyō, they were expedited through and saw the guards after only a short wait. One of the officers looked them up and down dismissively and then inspected their papers. Usagi had made sure to write a particularly boring memorandum, delineating the specific diets of his house cats, which made the officer roll his eyes and hand them back after reading only a few lines. Nō had begun growing his hair out since leaving the Truist Order, but he still resembled a monk, and so he was severely questioned about this.
Nō deflected as best he could, but it was apparent that the officer had a deep dislike for the Truists. Eventually, after paying their share of the tolls, the company was allowed to pass through and continue.
They collectively let out a breath of relief as they looked back on the small village and continued down along the road. They did as they were instructed, and stayed on the road as much as possible, pulling off to the side to camp when night fell. Because of the popularity of the Nagamichi, many good sites had already been cleared for travelers, making camp construction easy. There was also an abundance of inns and places to stay, which they avoided only because they wanted to make sure they had enough money. Usagi had given them quite a heavy purse to start with, but the tolls were subject to change based on the greed of the officers in charge.
Nō began to study more advanced sword techniques, having improved his downward slash and balance back in the Old Capital. Gintaro had him run alongside his horse as much as possible, and in the mornings and evenings, practice his swordsmanship.
“If the first lesson is balance, the second lesson is breath,” Gin told him. “You cannot fight well if you cannot breathe properly, and you cannot breathe properly if your body is unconditioned.”
Nō was given the first day off to rest as was promised, but after that, he ran along as the horses strode down the path. At first, the boy was confident, having already traveled far during his trial. He anticipated that he would have no trouble with this lesson. But the Nagamichi was not altogether a flat road, and the hills began to compound. The heat had also not let up despite autumn drawing nearer. Unwilling to give up, he pushed himself along for quite some time before he finally became so exhausted that he could barely stand.
“Let’s rest for lunch,” Gintaro suggested just as he was about to collapse.
They rested in the shade of the nearby maples and feasted upon fish and rice prepared in lacquer boxes. They had also been given these as part of their uniform and carried extra food in them when they made too much. Nō scarfed his down quickly and closed his eyes, hoping to take a short nap. Yet after only a few minutes of blissful sleep, he was roused and told they would begin once again. The afternoon did not go so well, and he had to quit after only an hour more of running. Defeated, he hung his head and bounced lifelessly on his horse and did not speak for the rest of the day.
It was after the evening meal that the young apprentice finally broke his silence. “I am sorry, Sensei. I failed today.”
Gintaro put his bowl down and looked at him intensely. “You will get stronger,” he said. “Nō, I will give you the same advice that my master once gave me. You must learn to recognize the lesson in all things. Today you were reminded that your body has limits. That is a good lesson to learn early. It is natural to want to improve yourself, but it does not happen in a day. Use the momentary feeling of inadequacy to fuel your desire to become stronger, but never forget that you, me, and even Saru have limitations, no matter how strong we may appear to be.”
Nō bowed his head, taking in the words of wisdom. Saru scoffed and put an enormous hunk of fish into her mouth.
“I'm not so sure about that,” she sniggered, her cheeks nearly ready to explode with food. “I have yet to identify any of my limitations.”
Both men looked at each other and fought back laughter.
“Would you count poor manners and a general lack of hygiene?” Nō asked under his breath.
Saru’s eyes opened wide as if she wanted to rebuke him, but her mouth was so full that she could only chew and grumble unintelligibly.
The young monk ran with renewed vigor the following morning, and by the end of the first week, he was finally able to keep going for most of the day, minus the usual breaks. He was still sore and tired by the time they made camp, but he had just enough energy left to practice with his new wooden sword. He had to construct another one, but this time he learned from the past and was much more comfortable with it. He fashioned it more to his liking, giving it a bit less weight, but adding an inch and a half to the length.
His teacher was pleased with his work and gave him a rare compliment. “Impressive design,” he remarked, handling the sword, and then balancing it on his finger. “I like your creativity. You are starting to think like a swordsman. By deviating from the standard, you give yourself a unique advantage.”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
By the time the first week had passed, they had gone through more than a half-dozen checkpoints and had yet to have a problem getting through. Some of the checkpoints were backed up by traffic, which cost them valuable time, but the disguises and papers that Usagi had given them were well worth the effort, for when the time came for the inspection, they were rarely questioned. Gin was still uneasy, for he knew that it would take only one officer to recognize him for their journey to come to an abrupt end, but he grew more and more confident each time they were successful.
They had also cut through the heart of Nakashima and arrived at its eastern coast. Here the road continued northwest along the eastern side of the island until it came to the New Capital. Along the coast, the land was often cleared and used for farming, and the faint smell of the ocean was never far away. It was much more populated than the Middle Country, and there were villages and cities located every few hours apart. These lands had once belonged to the rivals of the Mashige Clan, who were the first to be destroyed by the young Shōgun-to-be. But now they had been controlled by the Shōgun for so long that the region had adopted many of the Mashige nuances, which included a slight difference in dialect and a predilection for the Shōgun and his policies.
The group was happy to be near the ocean again, for this meant an abundance of seafood. They were already sick of eating rabbit and other game in the densely forested communities, so this came as a pleasant relief.
The Nagamichi came to the coast out of necessity. To the west, if one were to travel further inland, sat a great mountain range. Unlike the Middle Country, whose mountains were generally low enough to be forested and possible to scale, this region, aptly named the Kōyama Region, had grey, sheer mountains that were nearly impossible to cross. This range started beyond the great lake that was west of the Old Capital and extended all the way north to Akaii Province. The range was thickest, however, around this part of the Nagamichi and could be seen looming in the distance like a mighty row of spiked teeth.
They continued to make steady progress, and the second week began without incident. It rained for the first few days, which slowed them down a bit, but otherwise, it was a pleasant trip. Both Saru and Nō had never been to this region before and were delighted by the differences in cuisine, housing, and speech of the people they met. Each morning they woke up to the great sphere of the sun rising over the shoreline in the east and filling the Islands with its majestic light. And each night the cooler, September air soothed them into a restful sleep.
By the start of their third week on the road, their excitement had all but faded. This had been the longest they had traveled together consecutively, and they all knew that there was still quite a way to go. Even though the journey had been easier in many ways, as they had horses and plenty of food and water, the strain was beginning to show.
Saru often complained about saddle soreness while Nō became increasingly annoyed by her constant outbursts.
“You can trade places with me,” he said bitterly, as he continued to jog alongside his horse. “If it will help to keep your mouth shut.”
“I wouldn’t trade places with a donkey-faced boy like you if you paid me your weight in gold,” Saru retorted.
“What if I paid your weight in gold?” he shot back. “That would be, what, quadruple the price?”
Before the conflict escalated further, Gintaro finally intervened. “You both need to let out some stress,” he said. “And I have just the idea.”
That particular day had been a grey and cloudy one, which did not help the mood. It was also a bit colder than they had been used to, and though Saru welcomed the change in temperature, both Gin and Nō, conditioned to the sweltering summer air, felt chilled. They were all weary from the road and had hit a long stretch where there were few villages to break up the monotony. They plodded along, trying to keep themselves awake, but also trying to pass the time. The night was approaching, and their leader, who appeared to be searching for a familiar landmark, finally urged them to take a lesser path off the highway just as the sun was setting.
“Are you sure we should stray from the path?” Saru asked as they went along the road which had a steep slope upwards.
“It's just for the night,” he said, reassuringly. “We all need a break anyway. This place should help.”
“Where are we going?” asked Nō, hopping back atop his horse.
“I cannot tell you,” Gin answered, with an unusual air of playfulness.
Both Saru and Nō flashed each other looks of mild concern but decided to go along with it.
After another half-hour’s climb, they finally reached their destination, as Gin dismounted and stretched his arms overhead.
The other two looked around, trying to see what was so special. It was just like the same kind of clearing they had spent the last few weeks camping in, although this one was a bit further off the road. They were surrounded by oaks and pines, and great clumps of bamboo that made hollow, wooden sounds when the wind swept through them, and they bumped together.
“I don’t get it...” Saru said, doing little to hide her agitation.
“Me neither,” Nō agreed. “You said this place would help us relax.”
“And it will!” Gin said cheerily, beginning to construct the camp.
“How?” they both asked, their voices rising with frustration.
“Can you not smell it?”
“I can smell Saru,” Nō said with a grin before she smacked him hard in the back of the head.
“It’s the faint smell of sulfur,” Gin continued, too excited to pay attention to them.
The two other companions merely looked at him blankly.
“You should know what that means!” his teacher exclaimed, unable to control himself. “Onsen! Hot springs!”
“Ah!” Nō and Saru said in unison, filling their noses with the distant scent of thermal pools.
“This place is called Aomizu, famous for its natural hot springs. We can all take a pleasant soak and rest our bodies and minds before the last stretch to the New Capital. What do you think?”
“That sounds great. Just as long as I don't have to share one with her,” Nō snickered, finally dismounting. “She’s much worse than the sulfur.”
Saru flashed him her sharp canines but then also dismounted. “My rear could use a good soak,” she said, taking wide exaggerated steps.
“Indeed, it could!” Nō cried, and then nearly fell over laughing.
Saru glared at him menacingly and then back at Gin, who was doing his best to hold back laughter.
“For that, I’m not cooking tonight!” she raged. “You can all fend for yourselves!”
After dinner, the group split up to bathe in the hot springs. Since Gintaro ended up cooking, he stayed behind to pick up before heading to the spring himself. The later summer nights had grown colder, and he was looking forward to warming himself in the hot, bubbling waters. He ventured into the woods from the clearing and proceeded along the thin dirt trail that led up the slope. Along this trail, many offshoots led to various thermal pools. It had been made many years ago, but since this was not a well-known location, the trees and brush had encroached upon the path so that at some points he was forced to push his way through.
After a few minutes, he turned aside and walked over to a pillar of rising steam in the distance. After stepping over some roots and tall grass, he found a large natural hot spring located in the middle of the forest. It was big enough so that he could not see to the far side, for the steam that danced off the waters was thick like a cloud. Its size also created a sizeable opening in the tree cover overhead, so that he could see the deep purple sky dotted with stars, and the great orb of the moon suspended therein. He nodded his head, pleased with the location, and began to remove his garments.
When he had finished undressing, he set his clothes on a nearby stone and gradually waded into the spring. At first, he felt that it was too hot, but he knew that this was only because he was so cold. He pushed his way in, as the tiny bubbles rose beneath his toes, and his skin came alive from the heat. His face flushed and his legs began to tingle, but finally, he was in up to his waist and could just barely see the far side of the spring. There was a small stony ledge that seemed good for reclining, so he swam ahead, as the steam swirled in around him. When he arrived at the other side, he hoisted himself up a bit so that he was sitting on the smoothed surface of the black volcanic stone, submerged from the waist down. He leaned back and let out an audible sigh of contentment as he slowly closed his eyes.
“Perfect, isn't it?” Saru’s voice came from his left. “Just the right temperature.”
Gin’s eyes shot open, as he thought that he was alone in the spring. He could see Saru reclining just as he was, just a few yards away.
“Saru!” he exclaimed, dipping down further to make sure he was covered.
“What?” she said, leaning forward. She was submerged up to her collarbone, but the top of her breasts could be seen rising just above the water’s surface. The light of the moon seemed to give her skin a silver, ethereal hue, and her eyes glimmered like bright fire lamps in the mist.
“Did you not come to bathe with me?” she asked him softly. “I left my garments over there to let you know where I was.”
Gintaro gulped. He could not tell if it was the rising steam or Saru’s presence that had caused his face to burn red. “I … I didn't see them,” he mumbled.
At this Saru’s face fell in disappointment.
“But I am happy to share the spring with you if you’ll have me,” he recovered.
Saru perked up and reclined back upon a smooth stone, half of her exposed body now clearly visible to him. “I suppose just this once,” she purred.
All he could do was to remind himself to stay calm.
“It is a beautiful night,” she continued, looking up towards the full moon above.
“It is,” he said, trying to keep his eyes away from her, but failing miserably.
“I used to do moon viewing with my family on nights like this when I was just a girl,” Saru reminisced. “We would sit on the veranda and eat chewy dango and just stare at the moon. My father would tell us stories, like the one about the rabbit who lives on the moon and how he grants wishes to those who stay up to midnight when the moon is at its fullest.”
Gintaro smiled thoughtfully. “I would tell the same tale to Yuki when she was very little. She has always liked stories.”
“I thought you were off fighting in the war?” Saru asked. “Did you have a chance to see your daughter very often?”
Gin shook his head sorrowfully. “No. Once my daughter was born, her mother took her away from the Old Capital to live in a quiet village further away. It was just too dangerous to remain there during that time. But because they were outside of the city, it was difficult for me to leave and see them. At that time, the war had almost come to a standstill, and the tipping point seemed to hinge on our efforts. I was extremely busy, and I could not come home very often. I missed them both terribly, but…”
“It couldn't be helped,” Saru finished for him.
“I used to think that way,” he said quietly, staring up at the moon. “But now I think that it was just a lie I told myself. I could have been a better father, but I was so consumed by ending the war. I thought that if we could win the next battle, or gather the right intelligence, it would all be over, and I could know that I had a hand in ending it. But each time it was never enough. Finally, the war did end, and not the way I expected it to. Akira died. The Kurogumi failed. All my work was for nothing. That’s why I look back with so much regret. There were years where I would only see them once or twice.”
Saru floated over next to him. The ripples she created made his body pulse. “You need to forgive yourself, Gin,” she said, looking at him with her dark eyes. “We all make mistakes.”
“But mine are grievous,” he returned, unable to look at her now that she was directly next to him.
“I was at the peak of my strength at that time, but when the time came to defend the mother of my child, I was not even there. Each time I visited she would beg me to stay, but I never listened. Then, one day, she was gone. She had been killed in a chance encounter with a robber the very day before I arrived. If I were there, it would have never happened.” Gintaro went quiet after he said this as if he were watching it all over again in his mind.
Even Saru bowed her head as if the weight of the tragedy had hit her too. Several moments passed. The babble of the hot springs was the only sound they could hear.
“Did you love her?” Saru asked. “Yuki’s mother?”
“I did,” Gin said, smiling at the moon. “I first met her when I was very young. I knew little of the world other than what my master had taught me. She taught me everything my formal education lacked. We stayed out late and danced in the grass. We sat at the river’s edge in winter and sang to the fireflies in the summer. We fell in love. It was a young love, one that does not pay any heed to the realities of this world. She had Yuki early on, and due to my position, we kept our relationship a secret. We were never officially married, but to me, we were always husband and wife. As the years grew on, I saw her less and less, and the love we once had become something else, but it never died. I thought that I could be both a good husband and father and a bringer of profound change in this world, but now I see that I could not do it all. I sacrificed the former to serve the latter, but in the end, it was all for nothing. In the end, I had nothing, nothing except Yukiana. Yet even she did not accept me right away…”
He finally looked at Saru who had been listening intently to his words.
“Do you think you could ever love someone like that again?” she asked, turning her face towards his. At that moment, their legs brushed aside each other in the spring.
“I do not know,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know if I deserve a second chance. Besides, I have my daughter to think about. I can’t do anything, feel anything until I know that she is safe.”
At this Saru’s eyes darkened with anger. “You are so blinded by regret and grief that you cannot see anything beyond the next step you take. In that, it doesn't sound like you’ve changed at all! You have only traded one obsession with another!”
“What would you have me do?” he snapped back. “My daughter is out there, likely suffering beyond imagination, hanging on the verge of death for all I know! Would you have me treat this any less seriously?”
“No,” Saru said, shrinking back and speaking softly once again. “You are a good man, Gin-san. I do not doubt that you fight for the right things. I just…I want you to consider the cost. You said that you lost your soul years ago, but I don’t think that's true. You walk a fine line. You have to remember that you are still a man, a real man with feelings and needs. All people need love, even you.”
He said nothing in response but appeared contemplative.
“There are other people who care about you, Gintaro-san,” Saru said, stealing one last glance at the moon. “Just remember that.”
She rose and began to cross the hot spring. Gintaro watched her as she left him and felt a pang of guilt in his chest, as she disappeared into the enveloping steam. When he finally returned to the camp, both of his companions were fast asleep. He studied them both with a new perspective.
It had been so long since he thought of himself as worthy of love or even as someone who could be trusted. He had often identified himself by his titles: apprentice, warrior, captain, and father. He had never thought about receiving, it was always about what he could do or give. He had not thought of himself as someone who could deserve happiness until Saru reminded him of it. For the first time in a long time, he felt grateful to be alive. “I have food, I have friends, and I have a mission,” he thought. “And soon, I will have my daughter back.”