Nodoka adjusted her position in the hospital bed. “Tell me, Kasumi, what is Japan’s greatest protector?”
Kasumi blinked at the question. “I... I’m not really sure, Auntie. I mean, there were the samurai... and... perhaps some more shadowy protectors... but I don’t know.”
Nodoka shook her head. “The ocean, child. We are an island nation; the water provides a natural defense against those who would threaten our way of life.” She gave a smirk. “However, even nature needs a helping hand, sometimes...”
Kasumi frowned. “The blade... it controls water?”
Nodoka put her hand over Kasumi’s. “At the beginning of the Tokugawa shogunate, Ieyasu spied a young noblewoman, no more than fifteen, practicing an intricate swordform to perfection. She moved like water, to his eyes - ever changing, never truly having form, but powerful enough to overcome any enemy. Her name was Umizaki Kachiko - and she was my ancestor.
“As it was, he knew that Kachiko would not be fit for traditional battle. Men are men, after all, and her capture would likely mean her violation. However, he knew he had to find a way to use her talents to the fullest - and it was these forms, combined with some inspiration from Japan herself, that gave him his plan.”
She smiled fantly as her hands met together, as though she still possessed the blade. “He was tired of the manipulations of the Portuguese and their Jesuit priests, and wished them expelled. However, he feared what these foreigners would do to his country if he expelled them. Moreover, events in China were starting to worry him, and he sought added defense against their machinations. So, with the help of sorcerors, priests, and the girl herself, Ieyasu had a blade crafted, one that gave dominion over all waters.” Nodoka smirked. “An approaching fleet would find the waves too great for them once she caught sight of them, and their boats would shatter in the pounding surf.” She frowned. “There was no proper female heir when Commodore Perry approached Japan; my great-great-great grandfather sought to use the blade, but his power wasn’t enough. However, my grandmother and mother stood at the north shores of Hokkaido when the atomic bombs fell, waiting for a Russian invasion they knew was sure to come.”
She fought the urge to sit up; Kasumi adjusted the position of her bed for her. “Thank you. The blade... its power is more than just the sword itself. The person wielding it becomes like water; any normal weapon - blade or bullet - will do us no harm, and fire becomes useless against us. Unfortunately, as you saw, it does leave us more vulnerable to electric shock - though none of the blade’s creators could have foreseen that effect.” Nodoka’s fists clenched. “It also has immense spiritual power, it being the holiest of holy blades; any cut to a demon will cause it severe pain, and a deep wound will banish it back to the nether realms.” She smiled; her eyes lost focus as she saw another time. “It was in my younger days, while wielding the blade, that I met your mother and uncle. The unfathomable death from war in Japan, Korea, and China had produced a ground ripe for demons; my mother gave her life fighting these demons, and I took the sword and the cause in her place. Along the way, I met Kimiko and Akira. She was a good friend, easy to talk to and laugh with; we were still women as well as warriors, after all, and it helped to have a friend who was both. And Akira... he understood all of me - well, most of me. He had these incredible brown eyes, ones without any obfuscation; he kept his heart on his sleeve, and he used it as a formidable weapon. We fought together for three years, we did... we grew up together, and did much to heal the evil our parents' time had caused. The final battle, against the demon lord Aza-” She covered her mouth quickly, then raised a finger. “Never say the name of a demon; it gets their attention.” Her head drooped down, her chin resting on her chest. “Akira... he gave his life for us, protecting Kimiko and me long enough for us to banish him. He said he loved me...” She shook her head. “A short while later, Kimi-chan and I, both grieving, both bored after finishing the last fight, met these two handsome men - warriors, too, and seemingly with their own scars.” She shrugged, her eyes still not leaving their downward position; a tear dripped onto her hospital gown. “I’m sorry; I never thought Akira’s death would still hurt so much.”
Kasumi shifted uneasily. She still didn’t know how to tell her of Genma’s death. “So what happens now?”
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(Posted Wed, 18 Dec 2002 23:45)
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