Chapter 2
Shiro sano Kakita – Autumn 1226
The chill was in the air in the early evening when Kakita Harun practiced his katas. He found a quiet corner of the castle weeks ago to practice them undisturbed. And he did this in the short time they had for recreation before retiring for the evening.
Not that he wanted to do much recreation, few of the Kakita Academy students would talk to him. Except Arahime, and he didn’t like how it made the other children treat her sometimes. She said she didn’t care.
The notes hadn’t stopped, it seemed every other day that he found them. Gaijin, dirty, tainted… He destroyed them as soon as he found them. He didn’t want them to know how much they bothered him. Or bother the sensei with something so small.
There were the pranks too. His calligraphy work, someone spilling ink on it when he back was turned and he was chastised for his carelessness. He was repeatedly in trouble for leaving his sleeping area untidy, something he attended to with the utmost care. Last time they had beaten him for his “slovenly habits”.
And then there was the morning he turned up for practice because someone had taken all his socks and thrown them in one of the garden ponds. He had turned up with dirty socks and a lecture on tardiness by Kakita Daichi-sensei.
“You need to tell someone about it,” Arahime had told him.
“I don’t want to bother the sensei with something so silly,” said Harun. He was uncharacteristically angry. “And they can’t know how much they’re getting to me.”
“They’re jealous of you!” Arahime said. “They see how the sensei keep singling you out. How Kakita Kenshin-sensei talks to you!”
And she was right. This explained why it intensified. He still didn’t want to tell anyone though. That was how they beat him.
“The seven tenets of Bushido, recite them,” said Doji Yuriko, pacing the courtyard where the students were assembled, her walking cane tapping the rhythm of her gait.
“Jin, Yu, Rei, Chugo, Gi, Meyo, Makoto,” recited the class.
“And who can tell me,” said Yuriko, continuing to pace, “which of these virtues are most important to a samurai?”
Kakita Hayate raised his hand, and when given a nod of approval he stood and bowed. He had the slightest, smuggest, smile on his face. Pleased he could show off to the class. Harun remembered that on the first day, and every other day after that, he had told everyone his father was a Kenshinzen and one day he would be one too.
“Meyo, sensei,” said Hayate. “Honour. For if a samurai acts with honour, then his every action is righteous.”
“No,” said Yuriko, a tad harshly. Stopping in her pacing. “With that view, any action could be justified. Including actions that bring disgrace.”
Hayate sat down, a frown replacing the smugness on his face.
Harun raised his hand, and stood and bowed when indicated. “Chugo, sensei,” he answered. “Duty. For a samurai who acts for the interest of his lord, not himself.”
“Just so,” said Yoriko with approval, motioning Harun to sit. She began to pace again. “To be a samurai is to serve. To bend the knee. To bow the head. To be an instrument of your lord’s will. To put the interest of one’s family, one’s clan before oneself.” She stopped and turned to look directly at Hayate. “To do less would bring dishonour and disgrace.”
The next day, Harun ran from the barracks to the courtyard where they practised. The run helped him avoid the chill, as he couldn’t find his quilted haori jacket. When he arrived, the other students were already lined up, bokkens in hand. Harun bowed to the sensei, Kakita Daichi.
“Sensei, I apologise for my tardiness,” he said.
A grunt of disapproval. “Get with the others.” He didn’t want to waste words again on the boy.
Another bow and he assumed his place next to Arahime.
Daichi led them through the basic katas they had learned. Swift, disciplined movements, the bokkens moving like reeds in the wind. Then coming to a stop, standing still in silence.
Harun fell forward from a kick to the back of his knees, landing flat on his face and scraping his chin against the paving stones, drawing blood. He got to his feet, clutching his chin.
“He bleeds red,” came a whisper, somewhere near.
Daichi stood over Harun, frowning. “What is this?”
“My clumsiness, sensei,” said Harun, bowing in apology. The blood running through his fingers, down his arm and staining his sleeve.
“See to that,” Daichi said with a nod, he gestured to Arahime. “Go with him.”
“You need to tell someone,” insisted Arahime. “Hayate could really hurt you, you need to stop him.”
“I can’t do that,” argued Harun. “And it’s no different from what anyone else thinks. They’re right, I am gaijin. Why am I here?”
She stopped, putting her hand in his free one. “Harun, you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t deserve to be.”
Harun smiled.
Several days later, he was practising his katas in his secluded spot. Calming silence in his privacy. But today he was discovered. Hayate with his frequent offsiders Kunta and Saburo. All with bokkens they had taken from the dojo.
“You dirty gaijin!” Hayate exploded. “You told! I’m going to be disciplined because of you. Just wait until I tell my father!”
“But I didn’t!” Harun protested weakly. He tried to explain. Had Arahime told? And how had they found him?
“You’re going to pay!” Hayate shouted, the three of them raised their bokkens in attack positons.
Suddenly, Arahime was there. Standing in front of Harun protectively. “No! Stop this!” she shouted.
“Get away, Arahime!” yelled Hayate.
“No! I won’t let you do this!” she yelled back. “You are the one who is wrong. You are horrible to him, Hayate.”
Harun hoped it wasn’t Arahime who had told. He had said not to and he would hate if she got hut because of him. He gently pulled her behind him.
“Three of you against one of me?” Harun mocked, looking them up and down. “And I’m unarmed! What are you? Afraid?”
“We are samurai, we are not afraid!” declared Hayate.
If this was supposed to rattle Harun, it didn’t. He just stood there, looking directly at Hayate.
“Hayate…maybe we shouldn’t do this,” said Kunta with a little hesitation. “You know, his father…”
“He’s not his father!” Hayate exploded. “Looking like that! He’s not a real Crane! Who knows what his mother fucked…”
Wham! Hayate was thrown backwards from Harun’s headbutt, seeing stars. Harun the tore the bokken from Hayate’s hands, hitting him as hard as he could, again and again. All he could see was red. All he wanted to do was hurt.
“Harun! Harun! Stop!” Arahime threw her arms around him, grabbing the bokken with her hands.
Kunta and Saburo fled, dropping the bokkens as they ran. Harun looked down at Hayate, his face was a mess of blood.
“What have you done?” Arahime cried, clutching him.
Harun waited outside Sensei Kenshin’s study, his thoughts whirling. He was about to be expelled. He knew it. How could he face his father with such disgrace? Arahime was right, he should have said something earlier.
“Enter.”
Harun went in, prostrating himself on the floor before the sensei.
“Speak.”
“I freely admit my fault, sensei,” pleaded Harun. “If I had told you about Hayate, this never would have happened. I would not have hurt him. I fully accept my punishment, whatever you see fit.”
Harun felt like crying. He braced himself for Kenshin’s words, he knew he deserved them.
But Kenshin didn’t respond. Harun dared look up. Kenshin wasn’t even angry.
“Sit up, Harun-san,” said Kenshin gruffly. “Don’t flatter yourself for not telling me, I already knew. There’s not much that goes on in my dojo that I don’t know about. Even the small and petty feuds between boys that you don’t think are worth bothering me about. Am I right?”
“Yes sensei,” said Harun meekly.
“You won’t understand this, not yet but I hope you will remember,” said Kenshin. “We do not just make duellists here, but samurai who will go out into the world and represent the school and the clan. A good name which we will not have tarnished.” He looked down at Harun. “I wanted to see how you would handle it.”
Harun looked down. He wasn’t proud of how he “handled it”. “I lost my temper, sensei,” he said.
“You are to use your recreation time to meditate on this,” said Kenshin.
Harun’s heart leapt. “But…but I’m not expelled?”
Kenshin’s face was impassive, but was there a twinkle in his eyes? “In you, I see a capacity to reflect and to repent. To master your faults and to accept correction from elders. This is not a quality that Hayate has. See this lesson for what it is, Harun-san, and improve on it. You may go.”
Harun bowed low and left, his heart and heels considerably lighter than when he had entered.
Things improved from then on for Harun. He had a new found respect from his classmates. None of them had really liked Hayate, they just lacked the courage to challenge him directly. The fact that Harun had done that made them forget a lot of what they had thought about him.
Harun was at first suspicious of this until Arahime convinced him to see it for what it really was.
All was well.
Shiro sano Kakita – Autumn 1226
The chill was in the air in the early evening when Kakita Harun practiced his katas. He found a quiet corner of the castle weeks ago to practice them undisturbed. And he did this in the short time they had for recreation before retiring for the evening.
Not that he wanted to do much recreation, few of the Kakita Academy students would talk to him. Except Arahime, and he didn’t like how it made the other children treat her sometimes. She said she didn’t care.
The notes hadn’t stopped, it seemed every other day that he found them. Gaijin, dirty, tainted… He destroyed them as soon as he found them. He didn’t want them to know how much they bothered him. Or bother the sensei with something so small.
There were the pranks too. His calligraphy work, someone spilling ink on it when he back was turned and he was chastised for his carelessness. He was repeatedly in trouble for leaving his sleeping area untidy, something he attended to with the utmost care. Last time they had beaten him for his “slovenly habits”.
And then there was the morning he turned up for practice because someone had taken all his socks and thrown them in one of the garden ponds. He had turned up with dirty socks and a lecture on tardiness by Kakita Daichi-sensei.
“You need to tell someone about it,” Arahime had told him.
“I don’t want to bother the sensei with something so silly,” said Harun. He was uncharacteristically angry. “And they can’t know how much they’re getting to me.”
“They’re jealous of you!” Arahime said. “They see how the sensei keep singling you out. How Kakita Kenshin-sensei talks to you!”
And she was right. This explained why it intensified. He still didn’t want to tell anyone though. That was how they beat him.
“The seven tenets of Bushido, recite them,” said Doji Yuriko, pacing the courtyard where the students were assembled, her walking cane tapping the rhythm of her gait.
“Jin, Yu, Rei, Chugo, Gi, Meyo, Makoto,” recited the class.
“And who can tell me,” said Yuriko, continuing to pace, “which of these virtues are most important to a samurai?”
Kakita Hayate raised his hand, and when given a nod of approval he stood and bowed. He had the slightest, smuggest, smile on his face. Pleased he could show off to the class. Harun remembered that on the first day, and every other day after that, he had told everyone his father was a Kenshinzen and one day he would be one too.
“Meyo, sensei,” said Hayate. “Honour. For if a samurai acts with honour, then his every action is righteous.”
“No,” said Yuriko, a tad harshly. Stopping in her pacing. “With that view, any action could be justified. Including actions that bring disgrace.”
Hayate sat down, a frown replacing the smugness on his face.
Harun raised his hand, and stood and bowed when indicated. “Chugo, sensei,” he answered. “Duty. For a samurai who acts for the interest of his lord, not himself.”
“Just so,” said Yoriko with approval, motioning Harun to sit. She began to pace again. “To be a samurai is to serve. To bend the knee. To bow the head. To be an instrument of your lord’s will. To put the interest of one’s family, one’s clan before oneself.” She stopped and turned to look directly at Hayate. “To do less would bring dishonour and disgrace.”
The next day, Harun ran from the barracks to the courtyard where they practised. The run helped him avoid the chill, as he couldn’t find his quilted haori jacket. When he arrived, the other students were already lined up, bokkens in hand. Harun bowed to the sensei, Kakita Daichi.
“Sensei, I apologise for my tardiness,” he said.
A grunt of disapproval. “Get with the others.” He didn’t want to waste words again on the boy.
Another bow and he assumed his place next to Arahime.
Daichi led them through the basic katas they had learned. Swift, disciplined movements, the bokkens moving like reeds in the wind. Then coming to a stop, standing still in silence.
Harun fell forward from a kick to the back of his knees, landing flat on his face and scraping his chin against the paving stones, drawing blood. He got to his feet, clutching his chin.
“He bleeds red,” came a whisper, somewhere near.
Daichi stood over Harun, frowning. “What is this?”
“My clumsiness, sensei,” said Harun, bowing in apology. The blood running through his fingers, down his arm and staining his sleeve.
“See to that,” Daichi said with a nod, he gestured to Arahime. “Go with him.”
“You need to tell someone,” insisted Arahime. “Hayate could really hurt you, you need to stop him.”
“I can’t do that,” argued Harun. “And it’s no different from what anyone else thinks. They’re right, I am gaijin. Why am I here?”
She stopped, putting her hand in his free one. “Harun, you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t deserve to be.”
Harun smiled.
Several days later, he was practising his katas in his secluded spot. Calming silence in his privacy. But today he was discovered. Hayate with his frequent offsiders Kunta and Saburo. All with bokkens they had taken from the dojo.
“You dirty gaijin!” Hayate exploded. “You told! I’m going to be disciplined because of you. Just wait until I tell my father!”
“But I didn’t!” Harun protested weakly. He tried to explain. Had Arahime told? And how had they found him?
“You’re going to pay!” Hayate shouted, the three of them raised their bokkens in attack positons.
Suddenly, Arahime was there. Standing in front of Harun protectively. “No! Stop this!” she shouted.
“Get away, Arahime!” yelled Hayate.
“No! I won’t let you do this!” she yelled back. “You are the one who is wrong. You are horrible to him, Hayate.”
Harun hoped it wasn’t Arahime who had told. He had said not to and he would hate if she got hut because of him. He gently pulled her behind him.
“Three of you against one of me?” Harun mocked, looking them up and down. “And I’m unarmed! What are you? Afraid?”
“We are samurai, we are not afraid!” declared Hayate.
If this was supposed to rattle Harun, it didn’t. He just stood there, looking directly at Hayate.
“Hayate…maybe we shouldn’t do this,” said Kunta with a little hesitation. “You know, his father…”
“He’s not his father!” Hayate exploded. “Looking like that! He’s not a real Crane! Who knows what his mother fucked…”
Wham! Hayate was thrown backwards from Harun’s headbutt, seeing stars. Harun the tore the bokken from Hayate’s hands, hitting him as hard as he could, again and again. All he could see was red. All he wanted to do was hurt.
“Harun! Harun! Stop!” Arahime threw her arms around him, grabbing the bokken with her hands.
Kunta and Saburo fled, dropping the bokkens as they ran. Harun looked down at Hayate, his face was a mess of blood.
“What have you done?” Arahime cried, clutching him.
Harun waited outside Sensei Kenshin’s study, his thoughts whirling. He was about to be expelled. He knew it. How could he face his father with such disgrace? Arahime was right, he should have said something earlier.
“Enter.”
Harun went in, prostrating himself on the floor before the sensei.
“Speak.”
“I freely admit my fault, sensei,” pleaded Harun. “If I had told you about Hayate, this never would have happened. I would not have hurt him. I fully accept my punishment, whatever you see fit.”
Harun felt like crying. He braced himself for Kenshin’s words, he knew he deserved them.
But Kenshin didn’t respond. Harun dared look up. Kenshin wasn’t even angry.
“Sit up, Harun-san,” said Kenshin gruffly. “Don’t flatter yourself for not telling me, I already knew. There’s not much that goes on in my dojo that I don’t know about. Even the small and petty feuds between boys that you don’t think are worth bothering me about. Am I right?”
“Yes sensei,” said Harun meekly.
“You won’t understand this, not yet but I hope you will remember,” said Kenshin. “We do not just make duellists here, but samurai who will go out into the world and represent the school and the clan. A good name which we will not have tarnished.” He looked down at Harun. “I wanted to see how you would handle it.”
Harun looked down. He wasn’t proud of how he “handled it”. “I lost my temper, sensei,” he said.
“You are to use your recreation time to meditate on this,” said Kenshin.
Harun’s heart leapt. “But…but I’m not expelled?”
Kenshin’s face was impassive, but was there a twinkle in his eyes? “In you, I see a capacity to reflect and to repent. To master your faults and to accept correction from elders. This is not a quality that Hayate has. See this lesson for what it is, Harun-san, and improve on it. You may go.”
Harun bowed low and left, his heart and heels considerably lighter than when he had entered.
Things improved from then on for Harun. He had a new found respect from his classmates. None of them had really liked Hayate, they just lacked the courage to challenge him directly. The fact that Harun had done that made them forget a lot of what they had thought about him.
Harun was at first suspicious of this until Arahime convinced him to see it for what it really was.
All was well.
