Reborn
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Chapter 2: Sho Ito
I've seen Sho Ito around the village before, he was the son of one of the farmers. I had never actually met him, or have even said a word to him before I turned 10 years old. We were the same age but, unlike the rest of the kids in the village, he wasn't that social. All I had ever seen him do was leave his house, work on his family's farm and other parts of the village, and go inside his house. I couldn't even recall if he had even spoken to anybody outside his family.
The second day of training with my father was worse then my first. It probably felt that way because it was much longer. My father had me start off with 30 minutes in Shiko Dachi, holding the sword of our ancestors like I had the day before. I felt just as bad after those thirty minutes, as before, but it was only the beginning. My father didn't allow me to drop after my time was up, he ordered me, quite viciously, to remain on my feet. Oddly enough my respect for my father outweighed my physical exhaustion. It's amazing how the human body works, I always believed in mind over matter.
“Ryu, pain and fatigue are only states of mind, learn to control your mind and you shall learn to control pain.” My father stated.
I looked at him, trying to hold myself up as best I could, however, despite what my father had said to me at that moment, I couldn't bring myself to do so. I believed what he said to be true, but at that point in time I was so weak in my mind that I allowed the mental state of pain to override what I desired.
My father studied me as he approached me and once he got in back of me, he kicked my legs out from under me and I fell on my back.
“You're first lesson, learning to balance your mind.” He told me.
“But I thought we were working on our body first?” I asked, as I panted.
“You're mind is part of your body, and perhaps the most important part of it too.” He said, as he propped me up against a tree. He sat down in front of me with his legs crossed and closed his eyes. “Meditation is a vital art to master. Learning to manipulate your own mind leaves you less vulnerable to others controlling yours.”
I forced myself into the same position as him and closed my eyes as well. “First rule, train your mind to combat emotions.” He said. That first rule would speak to me as one of the loudest ones, emotion was like poison to shinobi. If one allowed certain actions or situations to hesitate their own, their opponent could use that against them.
We sat in silence for over an hour but I didn't feel enlightened mentally, only physically rested. I don't think my father was expecting me to understand meditation the first time he introduced it to me, he was probably preparing me for the next part of our training. What began after our meditation session was nothing less then pure and utter madness. Evasion and reaction training with large logs, while being weighed down with ankle and arm weights triple my weight, free form sparing with the weights, and mountain climbing. The pace my father started me out with was moderate, however, the added weights made the tasks even more difficult to accomplish.
It was past midnight when my training was completed, no food in between the sessions, only water. My body was numb and my stomach ached, tensed with pain for food. I vomited three times that day and at the end I had felt so light headed I could barley see or hear correctly. “You did good today.” My father said standing over me.
I looked up at him, dazed. My vision was skewed and it looked like he was spinning. My equilibrium was off but I had managed to reply to him “Thanks.” I passed out after that, but apparently only for a few minutes, as when I awoke my father was carrying me and we were not yet back to the village. When I had awakened I felt better then before. I was still light headed but I could think clearly and everything seemed to be balanced. “Father,” I said, as I got off his back. “Is that what lays in store for me everyday from now on?” I asked.
My father didn't turn, I stayed close behind him and he remained silent for the longest time. My father always responded to my questions or the things I would say, but at this moment he didn't. I could tell there was something wrong with him. I was reluctant to continue trying to get his attention, but I opened my mouth to speak when he stopped.
I closed my mouth and got beside him to see what was perplexing him, a young child, my age, was throwing shuriken at a wooden dummy several feet away from us. He was by himself, next to a pile of weapons. When he had ran out of shuriken he picked up a bow and arrow set and began shooting arrows at other targets placed in the area. When he ran out of arrows he picked up kunai and began practicing a kata with the knives. Each of the demonstrations with the weapons were very advanced for a mere child.
As my father and I continued to look at the child, I began to feel a subtle sensation in my chest. It was strong enough for me to feel it inside of me, but not strong enough to realize what it meant. It was that time when my father put his hand on my shoulder. I looked at him, but he kept his eyes fixated on the boy. “Kill him.” My father said to me.
I wasn't so much surprised as confused at my father's statement. The child was from our village, I recognized him even in the dark. “But wh--”
“Never question a directive.” My father said, cutting me off at that point. He handed me a kunai, I bowed, and went to do as he asked of me.
The boy was far enough away where he didn't notice us. I took cover in the bushes leading up to his location and I crept quietly. As I did that the sensation from earlier came back to me and it began to get stronger. The sensation began to bother me as the feeling began to distinguish itself as a malevolent one. I tripped up and stepped on a small twig within the bushes within a few feet of the boy. He turned towards my direction rapidly and threw his kunai in my direction.
To regain my cover I had moved a mere inch away from the path of the weapon so I wouldn't make more noise then I already had. Before the kunai reached the ground, I had grabbed the handle of the blade. By that time the boy was running towards me with a tanto blade in his hand. I threw the kunai back at him and leaped out of the bushes to the right and quickly changed the position of my feet to run towards him.
Note: Art of the Shadowless Footsteps.
The boy blocked the kunai with his blade, but I immediately followed up with another counter, throwing my remaining kunai at him. My knife caught his blade and positioning off guard and disarmed him and by this time I was within striking distance. I punched the boy in the face, knocking him down and I got on top of him and proceeded to spear hand him in the jugular. He trapped my legs from under me with his own and caught my wrist before I hit him. He kicked up my legs, and pulled my arm over his head, flipping me over. He got on top of me but before I could do anything he held a knife to my neck.
We looked each other dead in the eyes and I felt a connection with this boy. The sensation was at it's strongest in my chest then. It was defiantly something malevolent and evil and I could have sworn I saw a demonic aura around the boy. His eyes were lifeless and emotionless as mine were. I had no idea of what the boy saw in me when he looked into my eyes, but I was sure of what I saw in him...and it wasn't human. “The heir to our great Hayabusa clan is so weak.” The boy said as he got off of me. “I'm letting you live as a reminder to you that I had the choice.” The boy spoke with arrogance past his age. He dropped his weapon and proceeded back towards the village. After he was out of my sight my father appeared behind me.
“You knew I couldn't beat him didn't you?” I asked.
“Ryu...this wasn't a test. It was your first mission and you failed.” My father's tone was calm but serious. He had actually wanted to kill that boy. Sho Ito, a silent passive person, however, something dark resided deep within him and he knew very well what was inside him. I understood my father's silence at that moment, the seriousness of his request for his death, despite him being one of our own kinsmen. I truly understood and I felt ashamed that I couldn't complete the mission. Many years later I would come to feel even more regret and guilt that I was too weak before to do this deed.
When my father and I returned home a feast was prepared for us. Lavish and elegantly prepared food lay across the dining table. Rice, chicken, fish, curry, steamed vegetables, and a decadent cake. Everything my mother cooked tasted like it was kissed by the gods themselves, however, not even the elegance of that feast could bring me at ease during that moment. Everything I was before looking Sho in the eyes was gone and was replaced with deep confusion and need for contemplation. The pain from my training, the intense hunger I felt, all gone.
As I ate, I didn't even taste what marvels I had desired for hours before hand. I ate very little and went up to my room and meditated. I felt something inside myself, my life essence, my Qi. Through my encounter with Sho, I learned how to feel my own inner energy, though Sho Ito taught me another thing from that one experience...he taught me what about what shouldn't reside inside a human.
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To those of you who read, comment, and/or rep this post I thank you. I'm trying my best, this is a new style of writting for me so I'm still seeing how it works out. Since this is in first person perspective it's a little difficult to make a realistic re-cap of the protagonist's memories in the type of detail needed to tell to story, but I feel that certian memories are stronger then others so this could work out. Thank you for reading
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