It was a cold winter’s night, and I was admiring the beautiful cherry blossoms. The pale moon rose over the sea, and born light over the majestic blooming flowers. I was dressed in a traditional kimono, which shielded me from the cold of the snowfall. The snow crunched under my socked feet, as I walked to the shore. The sand was dry and the tide was low. It was peaceful and comforting. After admiring the beautiful ocean view I strode up to my place of residence, and slid the door to my kitchen open and slipped in. The weapon rack was above the fireplace, with an ancient katana and wakizashi along with my broken naginata. The sake was hot and so was the fire, as I sat down to rest.

I jolted from my futon, as I peered into the darkness that surrounded me. Sitting, I scanned for any activity, but saw none, as to the light level. Anxiety grew quickly as peered for what had woke me from my slumber, but none show their face. After almost giving up on my search and returning to sleep I saw one single infraction left by the intruder, the door was ajar. I sprang forth and swiped my katana from the rack, as I observed the cold black room for an invader. The tension grew as nothing moved, and my instincts told me that the invader of my home wanted me to feel at rest and return to bed. Yet I would not fall for such trickery.

My next goal was to determine the foe. I thought that it could be a follower of the way of ninjutsu, yet I had realized a better cause for my assassination. Feudal warlords crossed paths and samurai were their arms of war, the tip of the spear, if you will, and thus, we made enemies. Those enemies may have sought revenge, and thus, now that I had been discharged from my lofty position of bushi. Thus I wandered that of the lands, angering those who I came across, until I came here. I had built a place to retire from the life of a wandering and masterless warrior, for that of a simple rice farmer. But my past has followed me here and will drag me into this conflict if I don't end it here. After a long while I had decided it must have been a samurai.

I quickly lit a candle, and there he was. Tall and lanky, a new samurai as my intuition granted, he had a wrap of cloth covering his identity and a shiny new katana, that from first glance showed many weakness to me. It was a crude blade, which I personally would have used for ceremony, for it was beautiful but had many flaws that would make it less than ideal for fighting. This was proved when I made the first move, lunging forward, deliberately hitting the blade, as it split into two in no time. The novice gasped, dropped his blade, and began to run, a coward. I strode past my bow and took it.

I perched myself onto a hill parallel to him as he ran and knocked an arrow. Pulling the string back, I compensated for range, velocity, and many other factors I had developed from my experience and skill. I aimed for his achilles's heel and released my grip on the arrow. It flew through the air, on a direct collision course with it’s target. The arrow stuck in and he tripped. I then ran to investigate the assailant and teach him a lesson about messing with me, as I didn’t want to see him again.


The boy yelped in pain as he attempted to crawl away, and had not made it far before I reached him. I then decided to take him to a more private place for an execution, where I would not have to worry of anyone seeing. In a fit of anger I spat, “YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS, BOY!”, and he scowled from under his mask. Upon reaching my house I slipped in with him on my shoulders and closed the door behind me. Going down to my basement I tied him to a rod I quickly put across a narrow wall. I then sat down in a chair and began the questioning. I then proceeded to yank the cloth from his face to reveal his identity unto me, no one I recognized.

He then made a request I expected, “Please, let me go! I didn’t mean anything by it, sir!”, and I retorted with a sarcastic snicker. An extremely depressed look came over his face as he realized his fate, then after the change in the mood, I told him one thing, “If you are honest I will release you, not unharmed though, if you wish to be mended and untouched you will have to meet ‘extra’ criteria”, and then his mood brightened. After some rules had been set I began asking questions.

“Who are you?”, I said, in a calm, relaxed voice. He responded gently by saying, “My name is Ryouichi Kawaguchi”. I pondered the name for a long while, finally coming up with nothing. I then spoke, “What is your profession?”, and he answered very quickly, “I am a Samurai and have been for 1 year, with 10 years training.” I grumbled to myself, wondering how old this boy must be! The next question was, “ Who is your master?”, and he responded by saying, “Haruto…”, and he paused, “...Kagome”, He finished. Instantaneously I recognized the name. He was a close friend of my master, yet he was slightly jealous of Ichiro Hou, who was slightly Chinese adding elements of Chinese martial arts into my training. Thoughts of revenge and jealousy began clouding my thoughts, angering my disposition to my interrogatee.

I had one final question for the young man, “What was your mission in coming here?”, and he made the worst choice of his life in his answer. “To finish the last of a family, Daisuke Ueda…” The answer engulfed my thoughts with anger and untold grief, as he stated that the rest of my family, was, dead… In a bout of anger and confusion I lept up, and screamed, “YOU LIE BOY!!!”, and whipped my katana out of it’s sheath. I then proceeded in slashing at his neck, and his head flopped off, splattering blood all over the walls and floor. I then strode angrily out of my house, sprinting to the monastery atop Mount Fitsu.

Upon reaching the temple on Mount Fitsu, I entered only to find Master Ichiro Hou and 12 of his students slaughtered mercilessly on the floor of the monastery. Dried blood covered the walls, floor and splatters covered the ceiling, katana work. In the back lay Ichiro, decapitated, and his fingers forming the symbol of the dragon. I uttered two guttural words, “Haruto Kagome…” In a quick flush of any remorse I quickly attempted to remember the location of Kagome. After a long while of pondering I remembered. I decided that I should confront the man and kill him.

My house, it was gone. They had burned everything I owned. All I had now was a katana, a bloody kimono, and a few coins. I then set out for the one place I knew I could find that bastard Kagome.
I arrived at the inn, ordered a room, a bottle of sake, and a small bowl of noodles and headed for my newly rented room for some well needed sleep. After what seemed like a few hours of sleep, I awoke to a strange noise, fearing that another intruder had come I yelled, “Who is it!”, but before I could get up and find out, the butt of a katana came down on my head, nearly knocking me unconscious. With the little energy I had left I felt weightlessness and then I was put into a bag. The bag was closed and it felt like I was put over a shoulder. I squirmed and then I was hit again. I then slowly lost consciousness.

I awoke to the sound of a man speaking my name, “Daisuke Ueda is as good as dead”. After hearing such words, I opened my eyes, meeting with darkness, as I had been gagged and a cloth tied around my eyes as well as my hands being bound. I squirmed, testing the strength of the knots, finding great resistance. The man who mentioned my name must have seen or heard my squirming, as he commented, “The target’s awake, do you think it’s time?”, and another voice slyly said, “Ahh, yes most definitely time, for I have killed his whole family, including the one I sent to him to kill…”

The cloth was yanked from my face and I was met with a bright campfire and a group of many men. One stood out, Haruto Kagome… I screamed the words, “YOU MONSTER! I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN!”, but no words came from, as only muffled screams came, as I was gagged. Haruto grinned and chuckled as he slid my katana out of it’s sheath. He stated, “It has been long in planning, you and your family's execution, as it was easy to kill your parents and your sister, yet, your master was challenging. As to your brother, who you never met, I trained him with the end goal of sending him to either kill you, and upon arrival on success, killing him, or you killing him and I killing you. The second one sounded more appeasing, as I am right now very pleased with the outcome of things.”

He stood, removed the cloth from my mouth and asked me, “Any final wishes?”, and I spat ,”I hope you burn for this, you bastard.” I then proceeded to spit on him. He rushed forward, and kicked my stomach, winding me. Kagome then pushed me onto my back and lifted my blade, perpendicular to my stomach and said, "Farewell, you should've picked me..." And he ran me through. Blood splattered all over, and I couldn't stop myself from spitting blood and squirming after he slid the blade out.

I awoke in a bloody pool, with a katana lying next to me, it was also bloody and I could see no one around. I attempted to get up, yet when I tried to sit-up a hole in my stomach inflamed and I went to touch it. A deep clean sword cut was through my stomach, and I screamed, "Ahhhhhhhh!!!", as the pain came to me. The water soaked into the ground around me and I realized I was in a swamp.

I finally got up and picked up my katana, and ripped off a piece of my undershirt which wasn't bloody and dirty, and cleaned my face and the katana. I couldn't remember how I got here, as well as the stab wound. I finally managed to heave myself up, feeling great pain in doing so, yet I saw a piece of wet and dirty paper, half sunken in the muck. It read," Assassinate Daisuke Ueda, and leave his body in Coldharbour swamp, south of Rorland." Then it clicked, I remembered my name, and this place. Then I saw the signature, Haruto Kagome... That jolted my memory, with thoughts of a full fledged genocide on my family and friends. The last thing on the note was," Proceed with great caution, he is a ronin..." I looked at the katana and headed for Kagome.

I arrived at the glen, with the cherry red monastery at its center. I walked slowly to the stairs leading to the home and teaching grounds of Kagome. The wind was silent, and I looked down to my bloody wound, as the little droplets of blood fell onto the dark green grass, with a shine of dew. I saw his shadowy figure through the paper walls, teaching his pupils how to properly hold a katana. I'll show them how to hold a sword...

I took 5 steps back. 1. 2. 3. 4. And on the fifth, I dashed forth, sword in hand straight at the figure in the house. As I got closer I became swallowed in rage, and then a ninja star teared through the wall, and nicked my shoulder, leaving a small mark, barely staying in. I yanked it out and threw it back through the wall it was sent from lodging itself in the head of the figure in the window.

A deep thud was heard and I sliced through the wall, jumping through. Then I saw a young boy, could not of been older than 10, with a ninja star lodged deep, in, his brain... Then I saw him, Haruto Kagome, with a grim look upon his face. "You. YOU KILLED MY SON!!!", as he screamed into the whites of my eyes. I looked at him, with a sadistic grin, and I said, “Revenge, best served cold?”. With that, he pulled his katana out of it’s sheath, and said, “You’ll wish died back at Coldharbour, after this, boy…”

We began a slow circling, even more slowly going inwards, as we prepared to fight. The wind was still and the pool of blood around Haruto Kagome the II’s head was growing. An eerie silence filled the room, as our footsteps, made no noise. Haruto inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. I had decided to hold my breath. I noticed one thing, he began to sweat. I asked him, “How old was your son, before his accident?”, I said sarcastically. His eyelids came closer together and I saw rage in his eyes. My taunting succeeded, he was made, and will lose his balance.

He charged, blade above his head, screaming, “CURSE YOU!”, but, he was very naive. He ran right past me and I tripped him onto my blade. Blood began filling the edge of my blade as he began gasping for air. His katana clanked on the ground, as he dropped it. His eyes were open, fully, and I made a final statement, “ For, Ichiro!”, and slid him off my blade. Blood dripped from every orifice on his face and pooled from the open wound. On impact some of the blood must’ve gotten on the wall behind me. I looked into a void and wondered, why. Why so much slaughter, just over a simple rivalry. Not even rivalry, just jealousy. I buried the boy and his father out of respect.

I began the long trip to Mount Fitsu, stopping by the same inn I was captured at, to buy the same thing I had got last time, a small bowl of noodles, a bottle of sake, and a room. I slept, unhindered, by man or by conscious. After morning arrived, I left, and looked upon the long road, heading to Mount Fitsu. I passed my ruined house on the path, I saw him and took the boy to a proper grave, who turned out to actually be my brother. After cleaning up what I could, I buried him where he had fell from the arrow piercing. After a long journey, I arrived at the steps to the temple.

I glumly stepped into the old training grounds and place of rest where I spent 17 years at, training to become a bushi, a samurai. I am ronin now, as Ichiro’s body parts were strewn around the floor. After that, I buried them in the back courtyard, and felt at rest now. I then went back on the open road, heading for the place where I grew up.

After a long journey, I arrived at the home of my family, and saw there sliced bodies. I, as I had done to the others, sewed any body parts that had been mutilated and cleaned the bodies as I could. As I carried my mothers body out to our backyard, a large open grassland, I became overwhelmed with sadness, as blood covered the walls and the floor. They had been slaughtered, mercilessly. After I finished burying them, I headed for the final place I would ever go. The hill at Machiacho.

After arriving at Machiacho, I remembered what I had done here, 23 years ago. I had completed my apprenticeship of becoming a samurai and was gifted a set of armor and a katana. I was only 20, at the time. I sat down, and wrote. After completing my poem, I opened my kimono, and grabbed my wakizashi. I grimaced, yet kept a straight composure, as I had brought shame to my family, by not being able to defend them in their time of need. I placed the blade perpendicular to my stomach, thrusting it into my abdomen. I then, while spitting blood and breathing deeply from the pain, swiped left, and began to bleed enormously, then right.

Suddenly, a loss of consciousness swept across me, yet I regained my composure. Focus was lost and I became fidgety, as the hold on my blade was waning. Slow drips of blood came down my cheek, and my white kimono, turned an almost full red, stomach down. I observed many organs beginning to spill out, especially upon removing the blade from my belly. I sat and bled to death, admiring the fading light…