5. Sōjirō: Reminiscence From the Past: Final Chapter

Sōjirō’s Freedom

It had been one whole week since Mr. Shishio had left the temporary shelter of the storeroom. All Sōjirō cared about was the Wakabashi hidden under the storeroom. Even the rigorous labor he endured every day seemed insignificant: Mr. Shishio’s last words echoed in his head with every step he took towards the field.

“The strong will live and the weak will die” he had said.

“Ha! That wasn’t completely true” he thought. “Hehe. Look at me, I am weak but I’m still alive, although eating only a couple of rice balls a day…sigh!”

Grumble grumble.

Sōjirō hadn’t eaten anything since waking up. His hands had become numb thanks to those heavy rice barrels which were almost as big as him. Both palms had cuts all over, the pain coming in excruciating pulses.

Thump thump thump.

“Oh, ouch, that does hurt doesn’t it now?”

Finally Sōjirō put down his rice barrel down next to the well and started heaving a bucket of water. The moment he plunged his hands into the bucket, he felt a hot searing pain go through them. His vision became blurry, throbbing back and forth. Amazingly the pain faded away with every throb until all he could feel was the cold comfort of the water.

“Was this it?” he wondered “Am I going to work like a mule for the rest of my life?”

As he watched his blood melt into the water, he couldn’t help but think about his long lost parents. They had left him small, weak and helpless. But he didn’t hate them, just wished they were still alive. Wondering what a warm hug from his mother would feel like, he got up, wiping his eyes.

“It was almost dinner time” said a small voice in his head. But the grim weather hammered what little spirits that had lifted in him. It was going to rain heavily tonight and he would again have to sleep on wet hay.

But even the wrath of the gods couldn’t wipe the everlasting smile on Sōjirō’s face.

“Who knows I might not have to work tomorrow! Hehe.”

The dark clouds thundered angrily; Each booming explosion seems to be aimed at Kyoto. Long forks of lightening stretched murderously close to the houses and its inhabitants. It was going to be a long and deadly night.

As Sōjirō staggered towards the house and to his delicious rice balls, he heard familiar loud voices. Apparently his step-family was quarreling again, probably over who would have the last bottle of sake. But as he drew closer to the scene he realized it wasn’t about sake.

“THAT LITTLE GOOD FOR NOTHING RUNT! I’ll KILL TH….! Well well, look who decided to show up. Mother, this scum bag has been hiding that fugitive! I know it! My samurai spirit can see right through him!”

“But...but...I...I didn’t…couldn't…”

Sōjirō’s stammering just made his deranged step brothers and sister more confident.

“SHUT UP! If people find out someone from our house was hiding that fugitive scum then we’ll be outcasts! I say we waste this good for nothing runt and get over with it! KILL HIM!”

The final two words triggered Sōjirō’s reflexes and he frantically scampered towards the storehouse. He flung himself on the ground and started crawling inside the small gap between the house and the ground. Panic washed over him like icy water. The smell of mud and grass was overwhelming as was the sticky sweat on his face. He could hear his heart beating a life’s worth of beats. His front side was smothered with muck and mud.

Was this it? Was poor Sōjirō going to be killed like a dog? Running, crying for someone to help him? Was Mr. Shishio just a - …

MR. SHISHIO… THE WAKABASHI…

“Remember Sōjirō; There is only one truth in life. The strong will live and the weak will die”

The strong will live and the weak will die

The strong will live and the weak will die

“I am not weak…”

“I AM NOT WEAK!”

The sudden revelation was like taking an elixir. It gave Sōjirō a new hope, made him stronger, maybe even strong enough to use the Wakabashi that was a feet away from him.

“Takashi! Get under there and pull the runt out. NOW!” the eldest brother was leading the murder party. The rest of the family were behind him, some wearing evil smiles and others just beaming with arrogance.

The youngest of the brothers slowly got down as he was told and entered the gap, brandishing a dagger.

“HAHAHA! TAKASHI Don’t you dare kill the little vermin! Just cut off his pinky finger and bring him here to me! I’ll squash him like a bug! Takashi! Do you hear me? TAKASHI!”

“MOTHER -! AAAAAARGG!”

A familiar bloody scream filled the already grumbling night. A scream so terrifying, it wiped the smirks off everyone’s face. The oldest brother’s expression changed with lightning speed: traces of fear were etched across his rugged face. How could it be…that pest…

“Brother… b-brother! Help me… I…I”

The rest of his words were cut off by the tip of the Wakabashi thrust through his throat. The youngest brother had only managed to drag half of himself out of the gap. Like water splashing out of a hose, his neck was squirting blood all over muddy ground. His mouth was gaping like a fish gasping for air. And as big brother stood there, petrified, he saw the life diminish from the wide horrified eyes of his youngest sibling.

The Wakabashi was pulled slowly out of the man’s neck, however, his head dropped with a sickening thud. The remaining three brothers drew their swords hastily and retreated to a safe distance. Suddenly, the little vermin they were so eager to get rid off sent cold shivers down their bodies. As their swords rattled in their trembling hands a small dark figure slowly stood up. He had a sword with him, blood dripping from its blade.

“Boy! W-where did u get that s-sword?” It was their turn to stammer.

Sōjirō stood silently in the dark as the clouds thundered murderously. The grounds were lit up momentarily by a brilliant fork of lighting. The shiny blade of the Wakabashi gleamed ominously.

“CH-CHARGE!”

Shrieks followed by swift slashes of a sword filled the stormy night.

Another dazzling fork of lightning lit the grounds momentarily.

A single figure stood. The grounds were littered with bodies with and without swords by their side. The small hazy figure of Sōjirō stood in the darkness simply staring at the bodies.
The clouds could not hold on anymore. The grounds were soon showered with the long awaited rain.

The rain slowly washed away blood from the Wakabashi that Sōjirō was holding. He could not move. He wanted to scream but no words left his tiny mouth. The cold rain seemed to ease his pain. The rain felt so cool, refreshing, uncontaminated. As he looked up towards the sky the rain drops seemed to wash away a part of his sin. His eyes were soon raw and his face numb with cold. But he didn’t mind.

‘It’s over’, he thought. He was alive. He had survived.

And at that moment he truly, deeply understood Makoto Shishio’s words

The strong will live and the weak will die

He had been strong. He was alive.

After killing his step-family Sōjirō goes to Makoto Shishio. Shishio accepts him as his disciple and in the next ten years, he trains Sōjirō and bestows upon him the fiercest principles of swordsmanship. Sōjirō never shows a single emotion apart from his radiant smile even when he killed. In ten years time, he establishes himself as one of the top if not the best swordsmen in the whole of Japan. His speed and technique would become legendary.

His life takes an unexpected turn after his duel with Kenshin Himoura (previously known as the Battousai). Even though he overwhelms Kenshin by sheer speed, dodging one of his fastest attacks (the Kusoryusen) and injures him, he is still defeated by Kenshin’s ultimate attack (Amakakeru yū no Hirameki). His defeat makes him realize that Makoto Shishio had been wrong all those years ago and that life was not about being the strongest.

Kenshin bestows upon him a new and true belief.

The will to live is stronger than anything.

He had survived that stormy night in the farmhouse ten years ago not because he was stronger than any of his step-brothers and sisters but because he wanted to live, to survive.

And from that day onwards Sōjirō lays down his sword, which he had once picked up to defend himself by killing every member of his step-family. He becomes a wanderer (like Kenshin) and never picks up a sword again.

The End

Previous chapter (1, 2, 3, 4)

4. Sōjirō: Reminiscence from the past

Chapter 4: Makoto Shishio and the Wakabashi

"You!"

The man draped head to toe with long, yellowish bandages called for Sōjirō.
"You! young boy! I’m going to let you say your last prayers, something these pathetic fools didn’t get before they died. Hurry, don’t take too long."

The demon’s icy words sent a chill down Sōjirō back and froze him to the ground.

But just as the man raised his sword, young Sōjirō smiled, "He he…" And that was all he could do.
Now the swordsman was frozen: none of his enemies had ever shown such an emotion after their lives had been threatened. Usually his victims showed an unmistakable expression of doom.
The man hesitated; and for the first time he looked like he was confused so he said, " Boy, bring me some food and some bandages, find me a place to sleep and I'll let you live.

Sōjirō couldn't believe he was still alive and standing.

"Follow me s-sir" he said timidly. Sōjirō nervously led the man back to the storehouse. He had lost track of time and frankly, didn't care anymore. "P-please wait here for a moment s-sir I'll be right back." He pushed some rice barrels around for the man to rest against and rushed to the kitchen hoping to find some leftover rice balls. As he cautiously tip toed around in the darkness, images of the bandaged man flashed in front of his eyes. Why didn't that man run from the police? Why did he choose to rather stay and kill them? Finally Sōjirō found a couple of rice balls left over from dinner but sadly, no sake.

Sōjirō returned as quietly as he had left. He offered the rice balls to the man and took refuge behind another rice barrel. The man ate slowly even though he looked famished.
"My name is Makoto Shishio" He said."and the reason I didn't kill you tonight is because I found your smile intriguing, very uncommon. And as for the men that I killed tonight, they were insignificant pawns, mere obstacles that I have to go through every now and then. But I must admit, I quite enjoy these encounters."

It was obvious even to young Sōjirō that this man was no ordinary man. The way he spoke so calmly about murder and the way he carried himself: this guy must be a high caliber swordsman.
The horrors of the night were slowly dissolved by fresh morning light. A frantic man hunt had been initiated by the police. Residents in and around the city of Kyoto were alert and frightened. They had heard that a demon was killing people for their blood. Even Sōjirō's family were edgy. His brothers were brandishing their swords boasting that they would be the ones to slay the murderer. But for Sōjirō, it was another long and grueling day of labor.

As he carried rice barrel after rice barrel he knew that something was about to happen. The man hiding in the storehouse was going to bring changes, he knew it.

It was late in the afternoon and Sojiro went back to the storehouse with some rice balls. Makoto Shishio was silently resting on top of some rice barrels. He accepted the food and calmly ate what he was given. Then he spoke.

"You have been very helpful." He reached for his sword; Sōjirō took a step backward " and to show you my appreciation, I'm giving you this Wakabashi. Here, take it."

Sōjirō couldn't believe what was in his arms. "It's b-beauti-."

"Never mind what it looks like on the outside! Understand that using this sword will make you stronger!"

"And never forget that there is only one truth in life. The strong will live and the weak will die."

These words echoed in Sojiro's mind. He repeated it in his head. He was lost for words.

"Thank you Mr. Shishio..." He bowed with gratefulness.

And as Makoto Shishio left the storehouse, somehow he knew that this parting would not last so long.

Older Chapters (3, 2, 1)

The final chapter: Chapter 5: Sojiro's Freedom

YOU WONT WANNA MISS IT! (in true samx series style)

3. Sōjirō: Reminiscence from the past

Chapter III: A bloody night in Kyoto

A young child should do no more than grow and learn and live. But young Sōjirō was no ordinary child: He broke his back for two square meals a day and got manhandled by his own blood. Those coarse young hands knew no warmth and affection, only pain and suffering. Even so, he always smiled, pretending that he was happy and never broke down even when his step-brothers and step-sisters and step-mother thrashed the strength out of his body and mind. Any other ordinary child wouldn’t survive such an ordeal.

Of course Sōjirō had considered running away from home but he had no where to go and no one to take care of him; he was on his own from the day his father left him. Nevertheless the thought of escaping enslavement excited him. He could only wonder what life would be beyond the rice fields and the hills on the horizon or to be treated for once as a human being and not an animal.

It was midnight.

“Sōjirō! OYE Sōjirō! Get your shabby little butt to the market and get me some more sake! We’re completely out of it.”

Sōjirō twitched at the sound of his eldest step-brother’s thundering voice. “But b-brother, i-it’s so late. The liquor s-shops will be c-clos…”

His step-brother’s dominating voice gobbled his words up. “Then wake them up you incompetent fool! Do I have to think of everything?”

A hiss of a voice interrupted the conversation. “Maybe he’s the one stealing all the sake.” One of his step-sisters wanted a piece of the on going action. “Maybe the little runt should be whacked a couple more times and maybe he’ll confess.”

An already drunken man was enraged by the knowledge of such a possible crime. He shattered several empty bottles of sake in the process of reaching for Sōjirō’s neck.

“I’m going to kill you boy, if you don’t tell me what you did with all the sake in the storehouse.”
Sōjirō’s reply was weak and helpless. “b-but s-sir, I haven’t stolen any s-sake, y-you d-drank it all.”

“Shut up you little runt! Go and get me some sake. NOW!” The large man with his large fist finished his sentence with a clean blow to Sōjirō’s small face. For a fleeting moment, Sōjirō felt like he was floating in air and felt a familiar numbness in his face. It was the taste of blood on his lips that jolted him back to the reality of pain.

An even weaker Sōjirō panted. “Y-yes, Sir I’ll go right now” He bowed and hurried towards the market.

It was one hour past midnight.

How on earth was he going to buy a bottle of sake at this hour? Did his brother want him to steal some?

His frivolous mind wasn’t meant to make such frantic decisions but still he limped to the nearest sake store, which would probably be closed.

As Sōjirō left the main gate, he couldn’t help noticing how beautiful the night was. The sky was decorated with a million bright stars except none of them compared to the dim brilliance of the moon. That misty grey ball hovering slowly across the sky was the only guidance Sōjirō had as he walked through the ghostly streets that led to the market. Sōjirō’s ears rang with an eerie silence which was only disrupted by the scratchy sound of his footsteps.

“It’s impossible.” He thought. “Maybe I should go back.”

He was a turn away from the closed sake store when the silence of the night was shattered by a bloody scream. An unfamiliar sound of metal hacking something hard came next. It was followed by a sickening thud and more people screaming, as if they were steeling themselves for death. Sōjirō followed the screams although his movements were partially immobilized by a cold fear running through his whole body.

It was long past midnight.

As he reached the next turn, his eyes widened with absolute terror. A tall man covered sloppily from head to toe with dirty, yellowish bandages stood next to two bloody bodies in police uniforms, both missing their heads. He was raising a Japanese sword pointed skywards. He looked like a mummy, out for revenge Only one other man, another police officer, was still standing: he was shaking uncontrollably and he sounded like he was muttering his last words. And in the blink of an eye, the man in the bandages sliced the policeman’s body in half, starting from the head. Blood splattered all over the walls and the street but not on the man’s bandages. Sōjirō had never seen anyone move with such power and speed in his life. He speechlessly gaped at the man, horrified. Then, Sōjirō’s heart stopped as the murderer turned around and faced him. The man’s demon-like red eyes which glistened like blood fixed themselves on young Sōjirō.

What will the mysterious murderer do to Sōjirō? Find out in the next chapter of Sōjirō: reminiscence from the past.

All characters are based on the Anime Samurai X

Click for Chapter 2

Click for Chapter 1

2. Sōjirō: Reminiscence from the past

Chatper II: An older stronger Sōjirō

“Kill the runt; he’s a waste to society .”
“Please! No! Forgive me, I-I didn’t mean to! please, somebody! help! HELP! THEY'RE GOING TO KILL ME!”

Sōjirō’s eyes thrust wide open. His heart was pounding in his ears and his whole body was drenched in sweat: It was just another dream about his childhood. It had been a while since he had dreamed of the past. Of course he hid all his emotions behind that boyish smile of his and if anyone asked if he was feeling alright, he’d just smile it off. No one could possibly find traces of the sadness or the brutality in that bright and innocent smile.
It had been ten long years since Sōjirō had last seen his family. In fact, he wasted little time thinking about them.
“My, it’s been so long since I left my home town”, Sōjirō muttered as he picked up his katana. “Well, I’d better go summon the members of the Jupongatana. Maybe Mr. Shishio will feel better when he’s around those men-not that he needs any protection.”

The Jupongatana, headed by Makoto Shishio was made out of the best fighters in Japan. They were a group of elite fighters who had survived the horrors of the Meiji revolution. No matter how strong and skilled these fighters looked, Sōjirō would always be known as the strongest of the Jupongatana. Sōjirō had learned a technique that reached extraordinary speeds: Indeed, Shishio had taught him well. He moved so fast that the naked eye couldn’t even roll fast enough to see him. Thus, earning himself the nickname Sōjirō the Tenkin.

It was a bright sunny summer day in Kyoto. Sōjirō usually went to the market to buy fresh deacon radish and some tofu for lunch but even though it was a perfect day for shopping, Sōjirō would have no choice but to follow Mr. Shishio’s orders and go meet each and every member of the Jupongatana. As he walked by the ferocious fish traders along with the subtle flower sellers, Sōjirō couldn’t help feel lucky to be able to breathe the fresh morning air and see flowers blossoming with life. Ten years ago he couldn't even smell the sweet fragrance of white plum after a hard days work. In fact, if it wasn’t for Makoto Shishio, Sōjirō would have been sleeping under the flowers.
“I’m glad I met Mr. Shishio, even though he was scary at first. He he.” Sōjirō thought, walking faster than usual but calmly smiling as always.
Ten years ago Shishio taught him one thing, ‘Those who are strong will live and those who are weak will die’. And that fateful night, when young Sōjirō fought for his life, he understood what Shishio meant.

Makoto Shishio was an assassin during the Meiji revolution who was later shot and burnt alive by the Meiji government because he knew too much. He miraculously survived the attempt on his life and after that, he spends the rest of his days plotting against the Meiji government until he is stopped by the Battousai, ending his reign of terror. Shishio saves young Sōjirō from his evil family and molds him into one of the strongest swordsmen in the history of Japan.

Next time

The story of how Sōjirō fights for his life and becomes cursed with a smile...

All characters are based on the anime Samurai X

Click for Chapter 1