And, guys, have you listened to any of Peter Gabriel's music? I just found it, and I think I'm addicted.
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What Really Matters
By Mark Hermanson
The two samurai stand, swords drawn. Their shoguns have been at war for years, and this battle was supposed to end the feud. The men have slain dozens, then dueled for hours.
Smoke billows from wrecked palisades and towers on one side. Gakuya raises his sword at the other. “You will know defeat at my hands today, I promise!”
Seigo adjusts his helmet, and wearily raises his katana. “You have no honor- nor do your cuts have any depth!”
In the dead distance, over the corpses of formations, crowds gather. Civilians watch as Gakuya, their last champion, defends their way of life. Seigo’s armies have sworn to not fight in this battle, for honor. The fate of the land will be decided here.
Seigo takes up a stance among the bodies, his feet planted firmly on tramped ground. “This is pointless, Gakuya. So many have died. Let’s stop the bloodshed, and tell our shoguns this must be resolved some other way.” His voice trembles with the weight of recent events, having slain without compassion.
Gakuya is wobbling slightly, the weight of his sword making his hands shake. “This ends here. It is the way of samurai to finish the battle in glory.”
“There is no glory in death. Let us live, and revel with our families in an honorable victory over all this carnage.” Seigo also chose to save his soldiers from whatever Gakuya’s master had waiting at the castle.
“I suppose that makes sense, Seigo. Very well.” Gakuya sheathed his sword, took off his helmet, and drops to one knee.
Seigo does likewise, out of respect. His arm is bloodied from fighting Gakuya for hours, and torrents of arrows beating on him.
The two samurai kneel, swords sheathed. Their shoguns are desperate for victory, and this battle will declare a victor.
Seigo grins, despite the twisted bodies of his master’s men around him.
Gakuya raises an eyebrow. “Is something funny? I thought war was an honorable thing, without laughter or cajolery.”
Seigo chuckles slightly. “We are at rest. Please, come over here, I must tell you.”
“I am standing within a spear’s reach. You can tell me.”
“I don’t want my men to hear this, they have the ears of eagles.”
This confused Gakuya. But he obliged his fellow warrior, hoping to be diplomatic, just as the shogun is.
“Here, could you help me with my arm?” Seigo tore a sleeve off his armor, and exposed the cuts of Gakuya’s sword to the sun. The wounds were many and shallow.
The defending samurai obliged him, and began to tie fresh bandages around the gashes. He took a moment to admire his handiwork, as he was not humble in all ways.
Seigo waited until both of Gakuya’s hands were tying the knot, then reached to his sword. His foolish enemy was so engrossed with healing, he forgot to be a real samurai, full of glory and war! He slashed into the enemy with his sword, and drew much blood. His shogun would be pleased.
Gakuya fell to the ground, and clutched his chest. “So this is how we honorless pigs die?” His voice rasped from his throat, and his eyes looked into a blackened sky.
Seigo laughed, holding his arms out far to his side and slightly above his head. “We? Clearly you are mistaken, I stand victorious, my actions washed in history by the water of glory and fortune!”
Gakuya smiled as his death drew near. “Did you notice I never cut you deeply?”
Seigo dropped his arms, puzzled. “I noticed- I barely needed armor to defend against your soft, feminine strikes.”
“This morning, I covered my blade in the poisons of the fugu fish.” Gakuya looked serene as he died among the bodies of his compatriots. “I knew you would want to impress your shogun by dueling me, and that you would soil your honor. I am taking your honorless soul into the afterlife with mine, and making the land a better place.”
Seigo felt his heart slow down. He felt a coldness come over him, an evil spirit in his body.
The two samurai lie, swords on their chests. Their shoguns died honorless, slain by their own courtiers. The battle is over, and so is the war. But legends tell of a day, just after the cherry trees bloom, when two ghost swordsmen can be seen fighting for the honor of a proper death.
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