kscans

Chapter 10 - A Lost Path

If I became the best swordsman in the country, would Mana feel even a little regret?

The thought only made him more miserable, but Shintaro couldn't help himself.

He had fled the dojo like a thief in the night and now found himself under a distant, unfamiliar sky. No matter how many times he woke, the roof of the Hokura home where he'd spent his days was gone, replaced by a daily procession of strange new scenery. And yet, it felt as though he had been talking with Mana only yesterday. In fleeting moments, he could even smell her lingering scent.

Maybe I could have won her back.

It was too late for regrets, but Shintaro was seized by the impulse to turn and race back to the capital.

He wanted to walk one more time down the street where he and Mana had walked, their fingers intertwined.

Shintaro closed his eyes, summoning the scene from the light of his memory. Mana's eyes, which had seen only him. That beautiful girl was gone now, but for a moment, he felt the illusion that she might be brought back to life.

*

It was the day of their betrothal ceremony.

The two of them had slipped away to a detached room, seeking privacy. The moment they were inside, Mana pressed her face to his chest as if she couldn't bear to wait another second. Shintaro pulled her close, and they savored each other's warmth.

"It's almost time," she'd whispered. "We can finally be together."

"I know."

The kiss they shared then was longer and deeper than any before. He didn't know if he had pushed her down or if she had pulled him, but they tumbled to the floor, clinging to each other as if they would never let go.

Was that all just an illusion, too? Just a few days after hearing Saimon's unbelievable words, Shintaro, unable to accept it, had snuck away to confirm Mana's feelings for himself. They had kissed so passionately only a week before. He couldn't just take her father's word that this was her own decision.

"Is it really true? Is this your decision?" he had asked her, his voice heavy with sincerity.

Mana, however, refused to meet his gaze and answered with a cool detachment.

"When I was a girl, you were all I could see. You were my entire world. But I've realized that was a mistake. I'm sorry."

In other words, there were other men in the world who loved her, and there were other men she could love besides him.

But even hearing it directly, Shintaro couldn't accept it. A person's heart couldn't just change overnight. That wasn't possible.

"You're saying things you don't mean, aren't you? If this is something that can't be changed, then so be it. Unlike me, you have responsibilities. If you're saying you can't defy your superiors or betray your father, then I'll swallow my tears. Just tell me your honest feelings."

Mana sighed deeply. "Don't you understand? You're just a man with a handsome face and skill with a sword. But he has everything. The things you have, and the things you don't. I can see what the future would be like with you. I grew up watching my parents, after all. I thought I could endure it because I loved you, but... I was shown another path. Now that I know it exists, I can't go back. I'm sure I wouldn't be able to bear it."

Shintaro was reeling. He couldn't believe the woman standing before him was really Mana.

Marriage was reality, not a fairy tale. Hardships were to be expected. But Shintaro had always believed they could overcome anything with love. He knew that love was all a person truly needed.

His parents were farmers, with no money or status. The fields they owned were worthless unless they were cultivated. But they had built a family overflowing with laughter. There were times of sickness and days they struggled for food, but he was certain they had been happy, because they had felt love for each other.

Mana's words, a direct refutation of that belief, made Shintaro realize it was over. Not the end of their love, but the end of the girl he had known. The pure, innocent girl who had given him confidence and pride as a man was now a thing of the past. In her place was a woman who saw only reality. He couldn't say that was wrong; it was true that one couldn't remain a child forever. The problem was that he lacked the power to hold her back.

Status. Wealth. Honor.

Fleeting things you couldn't take with you to the next life, but to those living in this one, they felt essential. These were all things Shintaro had never paid any mind. He was a man who wouldn't have even dreamed of becoming a swordsman if his parents hadn't convinced him. The pain of having the person most precious to him stolen by the very things he had ignored was immeasurable.

That said, he knew he couldn't live on ideals alone. And so, Shintaro stepped aside.

All he sought were the clothes on his back and enough food to survive. A place to live would be a bonus. The extent to which he could sacrifice himself for Mana was limited to becoming a dojo master; he couldn't bring himself to desire anything greater. This is my fault. I don't have what people call 'ambition.'

He had settled on that conclusion to give himself some closure. But it was also true that he felt 'ambition' and 'success' were two different things, and he regretted that Mana, of all people, couldn't understand that.

Ambition was about improving oneself, not acquiring great wealth. Even if wealth came as a result of self-improvement, that was a change in one's surroundings, not in oneself. Success was glamorous, but ultimately, it was just a bonus that came with unseen hardship. The important things were always the intangible matters of the heart, and the only thing one could keep forever was experience.

The partner Shintaro truly sought was one who would live by that philosophy. He believed that such a woman would remain uncorrupted and beautiful until the very end.

*

Shintaro hung his head. The days when he had believed Mana was that woman now felt like a painfully distant memory, and a wave of sadness washed over him.

"What changes if I become the best swordsman in the country?" he asked, voicing the thought as it came to him. Saneyuki's eyes widened, as if it were a question that didn't need asking.

"Everything, of course! Wealth and fame will be yours for the taking."

Shintaro looked away. "Unfortunately, I'm not interested."

"What?!"

"The world around me might change, but I won't. And if I did change, I doubt it would be for the better."

Saneyuki was exasperated by the dismissive reply. "You're so cynical for someone so young. Don't you have any ambition?"

"I'm better suited to tilling fields."

"What! Are you serious?"

"What if I am?"

"You don't understand yourself at all," Saneyuki stated flatly. Shintaro glared at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Saneyuki glared back, unflinching. "A sword suits your hand better than a hoe. When you wield a sword, you're like a fierce god. It would be a crime to let you waste away in some rural field. Isn't it your destiny to become the greatest swordsman in the country and a beacon for all who aspire to the way of the sword?"

Shintaro couldn't help but laugh. "'Destiny' is a pretty big word. But you'd do well not to forget that I was born and raised in a farmer's family. The path of the sword might lead to killing people. It's far more meaningful to get covered in mud growing crops that sustain human life."

"Then can you cast aside your sword? Right here, right now."

"What?" Shintaro stopped in his tracks, so surprised that the others halted as well. Saneyuki stared at him, not yielding an inch.

"Isn't it the only dream you've ever had? If you can throw it away and not feel an emptiness in your heart, then I won't say another word. Go on, throw it away. But if your chest feels like a gaping hole afterward, then pick it up and move forward."

Shintaro was speechless, his hand trembling on the hilt of his sword.

It was clear he had lost the argument. He had dreamed through the sword, only to have his future cut off by it, and had tried to save his own heart by denying the path he'd walked. But he couldn't throw it away. Just as Saneyuki said, he couldn't imagine himself living with a hoe in his hand instead of a sword.

How could he abandon it now, before he had even wielded his sword to its true potential? It was a fact that he was traveling with them now, lured by Sahei's words—Don't you want to wield it to your heart's content?—and the hot blood that surged through him whenever he gripped the hilt was just as real.

Shintaro let his hand fall from the scabbard, his shoulders slumping.

"I want to go back to being a farmer, but it's too late for that now. And I can't imagine that I, a man with no skill other than being a bodyguard, could ever be a beacon for anyone."

Relieved that Shintaro had chosen the path of the sword, Saneyuki smiled in satisfaction.

"Come to my dojo and be an instructor. There are mountains of people who need sword training."

Shintaro's eyes widened. "...You run a dojo?"

"Well, something like that. It's not grand enough to be called a dojo, but if need be, I can hang a sign. With your name on it, of course."

Shintaro was flustered by the unexpected offer. It seemed too good to be true. This group certainly didn't seem to be short on money, but Saneyuki's personal wealth didn't appear to be that great. He doubted the man could afford to make such a grand promise as handing over the name of a dojo. Or was he actually wealthy after all? He couldn't make sense of any of it.

So, Shintaro agonized over it for a moment. But then, a strange thought struck him, and he laughed.

It doesn't matter if it's not real.

Mana's love hadn't been real, either. And his own love, which lacked the ambition to fight for her, had probably been just as false. A fake should live as a fake, wrapped up in lies. The time to seek something real would be when he himself had become real.

Shintaro, who had been looking down, lifted his head.