Three nights after saying goodbye to Shiro Mirumoto again, Togashi Amadan sat near a fire, drinking a bitter tea and staring into the dancing flames. The small kitchen was on the second floor of Shiro Iuchi, and across the battered table sat Iuchi Kanjin, a shugenja of some note, and one of Amadan's closest friends. The gaijin had come to the castle seeking respite from sleeping on the side of roads and such, and his young friend had managed to procure a plate of shrimp and rice for the two of them. As they ate, Amadan was mostly silent, as was his manner during times of trouble. His found friend knew this, and did not ask much as the meal passed. But as the shugenja saw Amadan's eyes focus on things far passed for too long, he decided to speak.
"What brings you to my doors, Amadan? Last you had written, you were to be scouting on the edge of the Shinomen, which is a bit more westernly than here." Kanjin motioned in the direction of the Naga's home, far to the west. Amadan frequently showed up at odd times, always wanting to spend time among the books of the Iuchi. He read for hours on end, sometimes into the next dawn, poring over every text on the Burning Sands he could find. But this time, the Dragon scour did not seem interested in books. He did not seem interested in anything.
Amadan stared at the fire, and took a long drink from his tea. The Unicorn shugenja was about to ask if he'd like some sake instead, but Amadan said quietly, "Kokujin."
Kanjin nodded, and knew the seriousness of his friend's melancholy. Of Amadan's past, the shugenja had heard little, but he knew that the dark ise zumi known as Kokujin had put a severe pain in the scout's life. Whenever the subject came about, Amadan seemed to troubled and pained for Kanjin to bring himself to ask about what happened.
"Have you spoken to him since Hitomi-sama welcomed him back into your Clan?" Kanjin asked as he stood to find as much sake as he could.
"Three nights ago." Amadan answered in an almost monotone. "That is why I am here."
The Unicorn searched through his cabinets, and said, "My sensei told me one time, 'You must be able to bring a form to your trouble before you may conquer it'." Kanjin turned and looked his friend in the eye. "I have never asked you to tell me, but the pain you bear alone seems almost too great for even one such as you." He pulled a large bottle from the cabinet and sat back down. The shugenja leaned closer and said, "Amadan-sama, you will always be a friend to this family. But you will always be a brother to me. I wish to help you face this pain of yours, but I cannot. I do not know the form of your trouble, so I cannot help you."
Amadan nodded. "I cannot say how much your friendship will mean to me" He said hoarsely as his emotion almost got the better of him. The Dragon leaned back in his seat. "Very well, then, Kanjin. I shall tell you the story of why I cannot trust Kokujin, and why I may never live with myself for doing his bidding now....."
****
Amadan hit the wooden floor with a quiet -thump- and rolled to his feet. The dojo's windows were open, as always, and his sensei's long hair fluttered in the breeze. As the teacher held Amadan's bokken before him, he smiled.
"You have learned much, young gaijin," said the old man, "...but how well you rise from the floor is worthless when this wood is replaced with the angry steel of war." The sensei handed Amadan his bokken and the young samurai in training returned to the rank and file of the other students. The sensei clapped twice.
"Hai, Sensei!" The class barked in response, as they all slid into a wide battle stance, their katana held over their heads, horizontal to the floor.
"When you fight, you must learn to meditate upon your opponent's mistakes." The sensei took up his own bokken and began a smooth kata as he spoke, "Our brothers of the Agasha temples have the luxury of being able to spend hours quietly contemplating what they will do, while we must do this in fractions of a second. But you must always know this: You will win." The sensei snapped into a stance and pointed to a samurai on the front row, "What do you do to an enemy that attacks you first?"
"Defeat him." Came the unerring reply.
Sensei pointed to another, a samurai-ko near the back, "And what if you attack first?"
"Defeat your enemy." Said the woman sharply.
The sensei pointed to Amadan, and said, "What if your strike is at the same moment of your opponent's strike?"
"You defeat him," answered Amadan automatically.
The sensei nodded. "Think of nothing else." he said, "Do not think of how to counter his strike, or how to effectively defend against him. You will think only of defeating. You will know you will win. If there is a single shadow of doubt in your heart..." The sensei trailed off and motioned to the class.
"You will fail, and you will die," Came the response.
"Hai," said the sensei, and walked out of the dojo. Many of the students held their stance for long moments, until they began to trickle off to other duties. When the sun began to set, only Amadan remained, holding his sword over his head, thinking to himself.
"Why have you not left?" A woman's voice called to him. Amadan did not turn.
"I will not move until I understand," He said, "Those were the words of Togashi, and they are wise."
"What do you not understand?" The voice said. It came from right behind him. Amadan recognized it as the woman who had answered sensei's question near the end of class.
"I do not understand the way to fight mindlessly." The gaijin responded, "I have fought for many years, but I still must think to myself what to do. I must bring everything in my mind to bear on the fight."
"Then don't," said the woman, and she laughed out loud.
Amadan turned to the woman, and saw he was indeed right. The samurai-ko was of average height, with a muscular build. There was very little hard in her gaze, though, and her eyes seemed to shine with laughter. The gaijin grinned and said, "Fine, then. I'll stop."
"Don't you have any kind of duty to be performing now?" The woman asked, and lifted her bokken. She stepped a few paces back and held herself in an offensive position.
Amadan lifted his wooden sword as well, stepped towards her, and muttered, "I have been ordered to do nothing but study the way of the blade for now," The two began a slow, rhythmical duel as they spoke. "When your entire life is swordplay, it become rather difficult to just stop thinking about it, as sensei would have me do."
The banging of the wooden bladed continued, and the woman said, "Do you have a name we of Rokugan can pronounce, gaijin?"
Amadan laughed. He full name was Amadan Calin MacLir. When he first came to this land, he told the Dragonfly guard that found him his family name was "MacLir"...the effort was too much for the soldier, so he amended is to simply "Amadan" which was much easier.
"My name is Amadan, young samurai-ko." he said quietly, as they continued to dance with their mock-weapons.
The two learned many things about each other as the weeks went on.They spent many days together, practicing their sword technique, and were even placed under the same sensei as they began their training in the silent ways of the scout. For a short time, Amadan MacLir did not think about returning to his homeland, and became very accustomed to being called Togashi Amadan.
He, and the samurai-ko, Mirumoto Hashiko, fell in love. It was a more profound thing than Amadan had felt in his life, and knew he had finally found his place in the world. They spent times together playing Go for hours, debating upon the wisdom of shinsei, and spending more intimate moments on the mountains of their home.
One day, Hashiko came to her love's chamber and said, "I must go."
Amadan looked up from the poetry book he had been writing, and nodded. "What has happened?" He asked, walking to his love. He stood before her, but did not reach for her, for they were within the halls of their home.
"Lord Yokuni has assigned myself and two others of our class to find an ise zumi that was driven mad." She spoke simply. Amadan could see the emotion in her eyes. She would have to hunt down and kill one of her own family. She was afraid.
"Return to me, my love." Was all he said. She could read his repressed passion for her on his face, and in the depths of his eyes, as well.
Wordlessly, she placed a lock of hair in his hand, and left down the hall.
Two days later, only one of the party returned, and he was nearly insane. He raved about the dread ise zumi, Kokujin was the terror's name, and how he had defeated the others and bound them to his will. That night, the scout who returned died, his eyes glazed over and grey.
Amadan spent a week in silence. He continued his training without interruption, but his loss did not leave him. He meditated outside of class, in class, and eventually when he was fighting. He learned how to break his mind away from the heat and fire of the swordfight, and he found the way to think of nothing as he made his blade dance.
Another week passed, and Amadan was again in the dojo where he met Mirumoto Hashiko. The sensei began to lead the class in another kata, but as Amadan's mind drifted towards the Void, he saw something.
In the archway of the door, unnoticed, a figure in a tattered cloak stalked towards the turned form of the sensei. Amadan tightened his grip on his bokken, and shoved another student to the side as he leapt at the figure, and knocked it to the ground. The class exploded into disorder as many of them rushed to their sensei's side. The assailant kicked Amadan in the stomach with inhuman strength, and knocked him back.
As the gaijin stood, he looked up to see the face of Mirumoto Hashiko regarding him with dead eyes. His lover took up her blade and turned to the sensei.
"Hashiko!" Amadan yelled, but she did not turn. In a dread moment, he realized why. The scout who returned had said the rest were bound to Kokujin's madness.
The woman was not his love, he told himself as he stood.
Her spirit is gone, he thought as he pulled a katana from the dojo's wall.
In an instant that Amadan would live in agony remembering forever, the possessed Hashiko turned to hear the gaijin draw the blade. Her eyes widened in panic as the edge of the katana found home on her flesh. Amadan did not think of the blade as it separated his neck from her head. He thought of nothing as the head landed next to the body.
He could think of nothing then, but now, he can think of nothing else.