The Greatest Samurai in Old Japan (understanding death)
Sokaku Takeda was only ten years old when he climbedinto the branches of a tall tree and prepared himself to watch and learn. Halfway through the morning the Imperial troopsmade their appearance, and were met with waves of arrows. The men of clan Aizu were precise archers, and though the Imperials had good armor, by the time the Imperials reached the bottom and began their charge the downslope of the vale was covered with dead and dying men.
Shooting arrows, the Aizu retreated back into the trees. The cavalry pulled to the sides and let the infantry through, and now the battle became vicious and hand to hand. Columns of troops were separated by the trees, and the Aizu warriors, who had picked a superior strategy, went to work with spear and sword.
Orders shouted into the bloody wind were drowned out by screams, shrieks. More Imperial warriors charged into the forest, and the Aizu men were driven relentlessly back. Several of the Aizu, however, made a stand underneath Sokaku’s tree.
Arrows thunked into tree trunks and armor, and were slashed out of the air by whistling swords. The swords, normally arcs of brilliantly polished metal, were now thick with blood, slick with the blood of dead men. With no trace of fear, the Sokaku observed as an Imperial Samurai arrived at the small conflict taking place directly beneath him.
The samurai angled his sword to deflect and moved past a thrusting spear, and then his own sword was moved to the side and a dagger was inserted between the joint of chest and arm. The warrior gave a groan as the dagger slipped through the armor, and he sank to his knees. The battle raged around the man, then the Aizu moved further into the forest and the lone Samurai was left to bleed out his final few moments of life.
The muted roar of the battle wafting through the trees, the ferocious action moved elsewhere, the Samurai looked up. Whether to glimpse a final glimpse of sky, or to see the heavens open to receive him, the result was the same–he went eyeball to eyeball with a ten year old boy. Avidly, Sokaku had studied the techniques used in the battle, and now he was beyond technique, he was in the depths of a departing spirit.
For a long minute the two stared at each another, their eyes wide, and they shared an eternal moment, then the Samurai’s pupils widened and he gave a light sigh and died. He didn’t keel over, but died on his knees, upright, too proud to lay down even in the face of death. Sokaku felt the spirit depart, and he was in awe at its easy passing.
Even though the Samurai had been the enemy–had been an Imperial warrior–he still exemplified the code of the Samurai, and the boy felt an intense pride that he, Sokaku Takeda, was also a Samurai. Then his pride rose even higher, for not only was he Samurai, but he was a member of Aizu clan, the fiercest of all the Samurai. Through the remainder of the day the battle raged like storm tossed waters, and warriors fought to the death again and again, and the Sokaku held to his high perch and watched and learned.