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sayaka19fan · 16 days ago

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Chapter of the White Lilies: Winter's Young Tiger

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation japanese-english of the original novel. This is a short story originally written for a japanese magazine and later compiled in one of the Ravens' Hundred Flowers books.

Blog version

For other translations, you can find them HERE

Timeline: At the start of The Raven Doesn't Choose its Master

Characters (in order of relevance): Ichiryuu, Yukiya, Yukima

Synopsis: Ichiryuu, the third son of the Shimaki Township Lord, wastes his days away picking fights and fooling around, unable to decide on the future, until a certain fateful encounter...

War cries resounded under the clear winter sky.

The air was so cold his breath came out in white puffs, yet his entire body was boiling. Boys under 15 stood on two opposite sides, facing each other in an abandoned field close to the town plaza. It was four against ten. The enemy side had the advantage.

——Fine with him.

The weak were prone to gather together anyway. There was no way he was going to lose.

A boy came straight for him, his voice raised in a cry—the other side’s ringleader, who had picked a fight with him the other day.

“Ichiryuu! I’ve had enough of your bossy ass, today is the day I’m taking you down a notch!”

Despite their similar ages, the boy was noticeably bigger and thicker than him. For Ichiryuu, however, who trained against adults all the time, that wasn’t much of a problem. He gracefully dodged the club aimed at him and snorted as he screamed back.

“And you got some real cheek there! Go home and look at yourself in the mirror, you ugly ass!”

“Huuuh!? Look who's talking, have you looked at yourself?”

“Wanna fight, you piece of shit!?”

Ichiryuu sneered at his opponent. The boy screamed as he raised his weapon once more, but Ichiryuu closed the gap between them in a flash. The other boy’s eyes opened wide in astonishment—he couldn’t react at all.

“Idiot,” Ichiryuu muttered.

He raised his fist keenly, hitting the boy right on his saggy chin.

“Yocchan!” a boy on the other side shouted.

His opponent, who had been bragging until just a moment ago, swayed for a bit as his eyes went white. He fell to the ground, knocked out.

“Yocchan! Pull yourself together, Yocchan!”

“Dammit, we won’t forget this!”

Ichiryuu watched as they picked their leader up from the ground and ran away, tails between their legs. He gave an exasperated sigh as they left.

“Truly, what a bunch of idiots...” he said just as his own underlings surrounded him in between shouts of joy.

“Classic Ichiryuu!”

“And you did it in one hit! Again!”

“And with those numbers! I was scared for a second there, and still!”

“Wait,” Ichiryuu frowned, “you were scared of those small fries? Are you for real?”

“I mean, there were twice as many of them!”

“That’s not a situation you can normally win!”

“Well, Ichiryuu is just that strong!”

“He may well be, like, the strongest in the North?”

“Cut it out. It just means they were that weak…” Ichiryuu laughed, basking in the pure admiration in their eyes. “Although, well, yeah, the title of the Strongest in the North may actually be on point!”

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“Ain’tcha getting a bit carried away, huh, Ichiryuu!?” a man said, slapping him with such force that Ichiryuu was sent flying. His body pierced the nearby shoji screen, pulling out even the frame, before finally landing on the floor.

“That hurts! What the hell, bro!?”

A teary-eyed Ichiryuu lay on the floor, his hand covering his bruised cheek. In front of him, stood three very angry men.

“Isn’t it about damn time you stop wasting your life away, huh!?”

“What were you even thinking!? Picking fights with kids from other territories!”

“Do you even realize who you are!? The son of the Township Lord!”

In order, the men yelling at him were none other than his father, the family’s eldest brother, and the middle brother. His father held the position of the Lord in Shimaki Township of the North. His rank was high enough to face high-ranking nobles from the Center, yet the man stood out mostly because of his big, strong physique. He was built like a boulder and kids cried when they saw him smile.

The Northern Region was the land of sake brewers and warriors. Farmlands were scarce. Its sake business, however, used the local water, which was remarkably pristine, and thrived beyond belief.

On top of that, every village, no matter how small, had at least one dojo. Even its farmers, who usually focused on tilling the land, could just as easily become soldiers in times of need. The majority of the population were part-time soldiers, such was the nature of the land. This was why a man like his father, who looked more like an actual walking rock than a member of the nobility and terrified others no matter how friendly he tried to look, was actually highly welcome as a leader.

Ichiryuu’s brothers greatly resembled their father and had the people’s wholehearted trust as well. In fact, the eldest was already hard at work as the Township’s future Lord and the middle brother was a graduate from the Unbending Reed Monastery and a high-ranking military officer. He was part of the personal guard for the Imperial Family in the Center.

For the North, raising the talents within the territory was of the utmost priority. As long as you had the gift for it, the door was open for anyone to become a warrior instead of a soldier. And, for the most talented even among such warriors, the Unbending Reed Monastery was the place to go.

In comparison to his accomplished brothers, Ichiryuu was just a problem child. He was the youngest, whose fate was still undetermined, and he spent his days fooling around in a gang with the other local kids his age.

“You’re getting close to your coming of age and having to think about your future. How about you take your own life seriously for a change?” his father admonished him with a grumble.

Offended by that, Ichiryuu pouted. “Leave me alone! I’m actually giving it a lot of thought, you know.”

There were two main possibilities for someone like Ichiryuu: to become a Township officer and help out his father and eldest brother, or to become a high-ranking military officer like his middle brother. And yet, he couldn't make himself choose. While he had absolutely no intention of working a desk job, he felt absolutely no joy either at the idea of following his brother's steps and going to the Monastery.

“You arrogant little shit, how dare you to speak like that in front of your father! If you have plans, go ahead and say so. We're waiting, and you better not try your luck with any excuses,” the middle brother threatened him.

He was the one who had sent him flying a moment ago.

Said middle brother had just come home for a visit after quite the lengthy absence. Which was good and all, but the news of Ichiryuu's pointless squabbling seemed to have only made him immediately see red.

The mere idea of following the same path as him, the most boorish of the three brothers, vexed Ichiryuu very much. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn’t help but wish his brother would realize his behavior was the actual reason for Ichiryuu's indecisiveness for the future.

“Erhm, I’m not becoming a Township officer, for starters.”

“Yeah, I could guess that much. You don't have the brains required,” his eldest brother earnestly agreed with him. It pissed Ichiryuu off, but, as he couldn't come up with a good counter-argument, he chose to let it be.

“Then what do you plan to do? Go to the Monastery like I did?” The middle brother glared at him.

Ichiryuu shook his head once more. “No. It's not like I’m obligated to go to the Monastery just because I have the skill for it, right?”

“Then what are you planning to do?”

“Well, become a wandering bodyguard, perhaps?”

That way he could still protect his homeland, turn into a guardian of sorts. Ah yes, Ichiryuu, the Guardian Deity of Shimaki. It had a good ring to it. He had said it without thinking, in the heat of the moment, but it truly was an inspired idea.

“You…”

“You're truly an awe-inspiring idiot…….”

His brothers gave him looks of pity, and Ichiryuu frowned. What was their problem?

“You may not know it, but I'm actually quite feared out there. They even call me the ‘Tiger of Shimaki’!”

“What? That’s fucking lame!”

“Now, let me warn you. You'll deeply, deeply regret what you said right now in ten years. I'm willing to bet on it. It's a guarantee,” his eldest brother said with conviction.

However, his father, who was now standing at the back, seemed to be impressed unlike his brothers. “Oh, now that explains everything! That's why your haori had this thing on the back!”

Ichiryuu had no idea when he had gotten his hands on it, but it turned out his father was holding Ichiryuu’s long haori—the same one he had dropped off in a hurry the moment he arrived home—and was giving it a good, hard look. Its black fabric was decorated with golden embroidery. It depicted an imposing leaping tiger and a swaying willow tree.

The middle brother backed away at first, letting out a scandalized gasp, before ever so slowly coming closer to examine it. “Where did you even get this foul, gaudy thing……?”

“He sewed it himself, apparently. He even bought the fabric and thread with his allowance. Isn't he good?” his father explained.

The color in both brothers’ faces faded.

“Are you serious? I didn't know that.”

“Why even go that far! Are you a tailor now?”

“Shut up! Why is that a problem? I just didn't want to bother anyone with it.” Ichiryuu stood up and forcefully took the haori from his father's hands.

At that moment, another voice interrupted the scene.

“Shutting up? Who!?” It was the angriest, loudest yell of the day so far. “I could hear you all from the front of the house. How about you shut those dirty traps of yours right now, you bunch of idiots!?”

The three brothers balked in horror upon seeing the tiny figure running towards them.

“Mum!” Ichiryuu screamed.

She raised an eyebrow. “That’s ‘mother’ to you.”

From the looks of it, she had come all the way from the kitchen. Immediately after her arrival, she proceeded to hit Ichiryuu on the side of the head with a rice paddle. “I truly cannot believe you! Why are you so damn hopeless? How about learning a thing or two from the Taruhi kids, huh!?”

Something in Ichiryuu, who was busy rubbing his head in pain, snapped when he heard her yell.

Taruhi Township were their neighbors and, by some chance, its Lord also had three sons. To make matters worse, the eldest and the middle brother were born barely a year apart, which meant they were both around Ichiryuu's age. Given their similar ages and circumstances, the three of them were constantly compared to each other.

“Now that I can't ignore! ‘Kids’, what's up with that plural? I'll take Yukima, fine, but I'm so much better than Yukiya.”

Yukima was the future Lord in Taruhi and one of those brilliant people who had it all: he was intelligent, good looking, and had a frankly pleasing personality. On top of that, he had been getting fairly decent results at the Northern Region’s tournaments, held twice a year. Ichiryuu wasn’t going to deny that Yukima had promise.

Yukiya, his slightly younger brother, on the other hand...

He was the complete opposite of Yukima: dumb as a rock, not what you would call good looking, and a complete coward. In other words, a walking failure. At tournament matches, he would start sobbing the very instant it started and then immediately throw the bamboo sword away. Battling him was considered a completely free win among the Northern kids.

Meanwhile, Ichiryuu wasn't the best when it came to studying, that much he was willing to admit, but his looks were most certainly not bad at all and he was courageous. On top of that, he had full confidence that his skills in arms were the best regardless of status.

Being considered inferior to Yukiya of all people was something he couldn't stand.

“He even caused trouble just the other day, didn't he? No matter how you put it, we aren't even in the same category.”

It happened during the New Year’s Greetings at the Northern Lord's Main Residence. According to the rumors, he fought with some guy and lost in quite the dramatic way, much to the Northern Lord's exasperation.

“Well, you may say that, but Taruhi's middle son was chosen to serve at the Court right after that,” his eldest brother said.

Ichiryuu let out a half-maddened scream. “Huh, why!? What's up with that? Court Service of all things?”

“I’ve heard that, from this spring onwards, he'll be working as one of His Highness Wakamiya's attendants.”

“His Highness Wakamiya's attendant…” Ichiryuu repeated, dumbfounded.

Wakamiya. The Crown Prince, in other words. The man that would one day rule all of Yamauchi. He had been studying abroad in the ‘Outside’, but he had returned a short while ago. The Rite of Ascension, the event to select his legal wife out of the Four Houses, was also supposed to start soon.

If he became the attendant of such a noble personage, Yukiya's future was all but secured. For Ichiryuu, who had until then been fully convinced Yukiya would spend his entire life shamelessly leeching off Taruhi, the news came out of nowhere.

“Whatever the excuses, he's doing just fine. Compared to that, you…” His mother clicked her tongue.

“Wait!” Ichiryuu screamed. “It makes no sense! Why Yukiya? And all of a sudden!”

“Probably because, despite appearances, he's actually giving his situation proper thought,” the middle brother added with a laugh.

“Impossible!” Ichiryuu yelled again. “Don't go assuming stupid things like that. As if he could give anything ‘proper thought’! I'm stronger and, most likely, also way smarter.”

“The biggest question here is where exactly you get that self-confidence from. It's admirable, somehow,” interjected his very exasperated middle brother.

The eldest, meanwhile, gave him a forced smile. “Taruhi's middle son has a different mother. He probably got a recommendation because of something related to that.”

This was the first time he had heard of that. Ichiryuu's eyes widened. “Really?”

“I don't know the finer details, but it was a whole deal. She's dead, but from what I’ve heard his mother’s status was much higher than the current legal wife’s.”

“In short, that's all it took to decide his future.”

——Yukiya, someone so clearly inferior to him, getting such a nice deal? Just like that? Only because of his blood?

“That's unfair!” Ichiryuu winced.

“Ryuu.” His father, who had been silent until then, called out to him with a gentle look on his face. “Before talking about others, you should first give some thought to what being a Township Lord's son truly entails. How can you even consider going to the Court when you don’t know how to behave as an aristocrat?”

“Since when are we ‘aristocracy’? Dad, do you know what our people call the Lord's Residence?”

Inspired by the castle’s atmosphere up in the mountains, they had given it the affectionate name of the ‘Bandits’ Den’. His father's rough, stone-like face blushed as he heard that, and he turned to his wife.

“Oh, my dear……. Shinobu, it must be because you're such a beauty, there’s no doubt about it! You must look like a princess kidnapped by bandits to them.”

“Oh, dear. Don't say things like that in front of the kids.”

“It's just the truth, my dear.”

Faced by their blushing, bashful parents, the brothers immediately felt a chill. ‘There they are, at it again.’ ‘I can't stand this.’ ‘What are they doing at their age?’ The brothers’ thoughts stood united, yet their father couldn't care less: their only option was to wait until their parents were done flirting.

Shinobu, their mother, wasn't a noblewoman by birth. On the contrary, she was a female warrior who won her position as the Lord's legal wife by sheer power. She trounced every single rival at a martial arts tournament. Even now, years later, it only took her one hand to manhandle her huge sons, and she prided herself as the strongest in the Shimaki Lord’s Residence.

Their mother was tiny, had a mean look in her eyes, and an utterly foul mouth on top of that. In other words, even from the perspective of a very loving relative, her appearance was at most utterly average and, rather than a princess, she had the aura of a legitimate bandit. Yet, for some reason, she was the most beautiful princess in the entire world in their father's eyes.

After quite some time spent flirting, their father finally noticed his sons’ looks. He coughed as if to get their attention.

“Anyway! You told us you wanted to become a wandering bodyguard, didn't you? If you're serious about that, I’m not against it. I'll give you my full support, even. However.” His father looked like the very picture of authority, the polar opposite of how he had acted just a moment ago with his mother. “Right now, I can tell you aren’t actually serious about it. If you keep saying whatever first comes to mind, I'll use all my power to beat that hesitation out of you.”

Ichiryuu had no way to fool his way out. His father meant every word.

“If you are going to go to the Monastery, it's about time to start preparations in earnest; you better give it some hard, proper thought. Are we good?” his father emphasized.

At his side stood his mother, who glared at him with her arms crossed, with his brothers, who were looking at him menacingly, in the other. Ichiryuu sat square on the cold dirt floor, clearly unhappy with the entire situation.

Finally, he answered with the only option he had been given.

“Yes.”

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In the North, a huge martial arts tournament took place twice every year at the biggest temple. It was a prelude of sorts to the Good Crops and Rice Harvest Festivals(1), and skilled underage boys from all corners of the region gathered there to participate. Its purpose was to choose who would take part in the dedicatory match as an offering on the day of the festival itself.

For any commoner boy who had his sights set on the Monastery, it was the perfect chance to prove himself in front of people influential enough to give them a recommendation. In fact, there were also Monastery instructors in attendance every year. And, for the boys born in the North’s many warrior families, it was the best chance to show off the hardwon results of their training.

The sky was clear, with no clouds in sight, and the curtains hanging from the temple’s eaves flapped magnificently in the wind. It was the very last day of winter, at least according to the calendar, and yet the day was just as cold as usual. White puffs came out from people's mouths and a good warmup was a hard requisite to even hope to move properly.

Ichiryuu was very much used to fighting outside in the cold, however, so this was just more of the same to him. Just like that, he took yet another impressive and graceful victory in front of the shivering spectators.

“White, one point!”

As the crowd cheered, Ichiryuu turned towards them, lifting his bamboo sword up high. He had just won his third round, and his opponent had been none other than Yukima of Taruhi, the same boy Ichiryuu's family was so intent on wanting him to be like.

“You're just as strong as always, Ichiryuu.” A cheerful Yukima was the one to approach him first, once they were done with the customary bows.

His cheeks were flushed and his hair was messy, but he sported an easy-going expression that spoke of the quality of his upbringing. This, combined with his good looks, meant that a group of fawning girls had gathered close by. Ichiryuu couldn't be happier to have taken that victory against him in front of them.

“Well, of course. I'm the ‘Tiger of Shimaki’, after all.”

“Ah, I really don't hate that side of you,” he laughed, “but don’t expect me to follow you on that.”

Unsure about what Yukima meant, Ichiryuu was about to ask him. However, Yukima waved his hand in farewell before he got the chance. “My brother's match is next so I have to go. See you later!”

Even his back as he ran away was graceful.

“How can he look so cool even though he lost.”

“That's a future Township Lord for you……”

He hadn’t realized it until now, but his friends were already standing behind him. Two of them had joined the tournament as well, but they had lost almost immediately so they had decided to stay around to cheer Ichiryuu on instead. His parents and eldest brother were expected to be in attendance by the Northern Lord's seat, which meant that his friends were the only ones with Ichiryuu on the field.

“I won, though,” he spouted, his tone flatter than he himself expected.

“But, of course! You were the coolest, Ichiryuu!”

“There's no need to sulk!”

“I'm not sulking.”

Yet all that euphoria from before had vanished entirely. Ichiryuu silently followed his friends, who were still frantically trying to comfort him, as they walked in the same direction as Yukima. They arrived at a venue in the corner of the precincts, delimited by a white square and completely surrounded by people. They had arrived just in time. That guy was just exchanging bows with his opponent.

The guy’s face was the very picture of insecurity. He was none other than Yukiya, the failure of a second son of Taruhi. His hair was fluffy and unruly, and he had a red headband on his head. He was small and poorly built for his age and, unlike Yukima, his features could hardly be defined as attractive.

“You can do it, Yukiya!” A small child raised his voice from the side of the venue. Taruhi's third son, most likely. Beside him stood Ichiryuu’s last opponent, Yukima, who could only watch over his brother with worry painted all over his face.

“Start!” the judge yelled.

Yukiya’s opponent, who was wearing a white headband, raised his voice the moment the match started, going for an attack. Yukiya visibly trembled at the sight, the tip of his sword unreliably shaking up and down.

Ah, truly a lost cause.

In the time it took Ichiryuu to think that, Yukiya’s opponent closed the distance between the two of them and, of all things to do, Yukiya chose to close his eyes. And just as Ichiryuu had expected, the match was over in barely an instant.

“...... To think a guy like that is going to be His Highness Wakamiya's attendant. The world may as well be ending.”

Pointless as it all was in the end, Ichiryuu's irritation only grew as he watched Yukiya’s brothers comfort him. Mere thoughtless whining out of jealousy, and yet his friends immediately took the bait. It wasn't exactly subtle.

“I know! You would do so much better than him, Ichiryuu.”

“His older brother could manage just fine, yes, but that guy? He's probably going to embarrass us all here in the North.”

“Exactly!” Ichiryuu wholeheartedly agreed.

Ever since they had arrived, Yukiya's future attendant work at the Center had turned out to be a popular conversation topic. From what he had learned from the many rumors circulating, there was another different nobleman who was originally supposed to do it. However, he mistook Yukiya for a commoner and fought with him. In the end, he actually hurt Yukiya. Giving up the honor to his victim had been his punishment.

Of course, to hurt someone just because he's a commoner was in no way acceptable behavior. Ichiryuu genuinely thought the punishment was necessary and fitting. That said, he could see how someone could mistake Yukiya for someone of lower birth, and he couldn't stand knowing that, ultimately, Yukiya's entire future was decided only on the grounds of his superior lineage. It made him sick.

“But what if he started that fight knowing what would happen? The cunning of it!”

“No way, don't say scary things like that!”

“I mean, using his brains instead of his non-existent strength. It sounds like something a noble would do, don’t you think?”

Ichiryuu snorted at his friend's words. “As if Yukiya is smart enough to do that. He probably just got lucky.”

It seemed his friends had quite unrealistic expectations about rural nobility. His argument didn't seem to convince them, however, as they just muttered on.

“Maybe you're right, yes.”

“But there's still a chance he did it knowingly, ain't there?”

Ichiryuu followed Yukiya with his eyes as he left the venue, drinking some water from a bamboo bottle. “I’ve heard his mother is from a good family. Don’t you think that, if he truly were the kind to pull off something like that, he could just depose Yukima and take over as the next Township Lord instead? Not like he can actually do that, mind you,” Ichiryuu spitefully spat out. “If lineage were truly all you needed to triumph, there wouldn't be any point to working as hard as we do.”

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In the end, Ichiryuu took third place at the tournament. There were Monastery trainees-to-be taking part in the tournament this particular year, so it was safe to say those were some excellent results. As much as it was a shame he couldn't get first place, at least it meant he didn't need to take part in the dedicatory match the next day. In that particular sense, one could even say that third was the ideal placement.

Now that his matches were over, the only thing left to do was to enjoy himself at the festival, taking place at the North's biggest city, before coming back home. The Good Crops Festival was also the first chance to drink the sake that had matured during wintertime. That was the following day, however. That night, last fall's sake was everywhere instead, and the path to the temple was filled with plenty of food stalls as well.

Ichiryuu had barely gotten the chance to take a peek or two in-between matches, but he still got to enjoy the strong aroma of grilling soy drifting from the massive pots, filled with boiling salty-sweet konjak balls, and to see some skewers of miso-marinated chicken dripping with golden oil.

Ichiryuu, happy thinking about everything he was going to eat, was about to take off his training uniform when a voice interrupted him. “Excuse me… Ichiryuu?”

He turned around and his expression hardened. Brown, unruly hair stood right under his line of sight: a short boy was looking up at him. Yukiya of Taruhi, of all people.

Their relationship went as far as playing together from time to time when they were kids, whenever there was a reunion at the Northern Lord's Main Residence. He wasn't someone he wanted to be close to now that they were older, however. He had no idea of what Yukiya could want from him, but he fully intended to appease him just enough to get him out of the way and go play as soon as possible.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine what Yukiya’s request was about.

“Teach you some basics? Me?”

“Yes. I've, well, lost all my matches today too…” Yukiya said, shriveled up like a leaf in autumn. “It'll be really bad if I keep going like this, so I wanted to get some advice from you, Ichiryuu.”

“Now, my question is, why does it have to be me? You’re going to the Center very soon too, right? There’ll surely be some busybodies in Taruhi willing to teach you.” His answer turned out way more sarcastic than he had originally intended, but Yukiya didn't seem to notice it.

“Still!” He answered energetically, “I really want you, Ichiryuu, to teach me. Every mentor in Taruhi is already getting up in years……. So, I thought that surely I could learn something useful if I train with someone strong and closer to my age. And you were so, so cool today, Ichiryuu.”

“R-Really?”

Ah, it truly wasn't such a bad feeling. To be looked up to with wholehearted admiration like that.

“Please! Even if it's just for a moment, I really don't mind!”

Well, to be completely fair, it wasn't like Yukiya himself had done anything wrong. He may have been a bit too harsh with all the jealous talk. Besides, there was something cute about how he had come all the way to ask him for help like that. Commendable, even.

Ichiryuu glanced at the window. He could see the red sky through the lattice, and his friends had told him they would go ahead to watch the kagura(2) songs and dances. There was still some time before the meetup.

“Well, if you insist that much… I'll give you a lesson or two.”

“Really? Actually, I already got a dojo for it,” Yukiya said innocently.

He brought Ichiryuu to a small building. It had been used as a waiting room for the tournaments’ participants during the day, but everyone seemed to have left a long while ago. It had been so lively just a few hours ago, and yet now you couldn't see a soul around.

“They told me they don't use it for big matches like the ones today, but it's actually a training dojo. When I explained to them that I wanted to practice on my own, they said I could use it as much as I wanted.”

Yukiya explained as he went and lit up candles in the corners. Then, once that was done, he returned to the entrance and used both hands to carefully close the door. It was well-waxed and moved with ease, sliding into position with a soft tap.

“Now……” Yukiya turned back to him, his face illuminated from the side by soft candle light. There was a carefree, toothy smile on his lips. “Thank you for your guidance.”

“No worries,” Ichiryuu said cheerfully.

He went to the side of the dojo, where they kept the bamboo swords, and picked up one in as good a state as possible. They had no one to act as the judge, but it should be just fine. He could just point out anything he noticed as they trained, much like his own instructor did with him. Ichiryuu stood at the starting line and bowed.

“Thank you for having me,” they said to each other and Ichiryuu readied his position, bamboo sword in hand.

��—It didn’t take him too long to realize something was wrong.

For the first few matches, everything was fine. Ichiryuu would just correct Yukiya: ‘Your pose is off.’ ‘Work on that leg coordination.’ It was only later that he started to notice the wrongness of it all.

Yukiya held his sword as he pitifully shrunk into a ball, making his body as small as possible. His grip didn’t seem strong at all to him. He looked outright defenseless, to put it plainly, yet Ichiryuu’s blows didn't land as they should. Every time he tried to attack, Yukiya would let out some kind of pathetic scream and then, somehow, flawlessly stop or deflect the hit.

Disconcerted, Ichiryuu backed down for a second. He studied Yukiya for a while, but the boy simply looked back at him with dread.

“...... What's up? Aren't you going to attack?” Ichiryuu challenged him.

With anxiety all over his face, Yukiya finally went on the offensive. It was a weak attempt. Ichiryuu had no problems whatsoever countering it, and immediately closed in for a blow of his own. Yet, somehow, Yukiya warded him off. His sword slashed the air.

For a moment, Ichiryuu simply couldn't believe it. He had put some actual effort into that one.

Meanwhile, Yukiya was still giving him the same old pitiful look. He even went and tilted his head, as if wondering what was wrong. And yet, Ichiryuu couldn't help but feel something off lurking in his eyes.

Indignant, Ichiryuu sighed and finally gave a loud shout as he went on the offensive again. This time around, he wasn’t going to underestimate his opponent, not one bit. Whether it was because he had noticed Ichiryuu's change in attitude or not, Yukiya's stance quickly shifted as well. His entire body relaxed and he fixed his center of gravity. Just like that, his previously deplorable footwork became buttery smooth.

Most importantly, however, were his eyes: there was no fear whatsoever in them anymore.

Seeing red, Ichiryuu cursed to himself. He put his everything into his next attacks. He tried to strike, to stab, time and time again, and yet it was to no avail. Every hit found itself rebuffed, deflected, or otherwise warded off. Despite actually trying his hardest to get a point, nothing would work on Yukiya. Most infuriatingly, the boy didn't try to counterattack even once, no matter how many openings there were.

Gradually, Ichiryuu's breath picked up. His arms felt heavier by the moment and he could taste blood in his mouth. His sight blurred, and he realized his own dripping sweat was the cause.

He slashed down with all his strength, and Yukiya finally managed to completely block him. For a moment, neither side moved.

“Is that all?” Despite the clashing swords, Yukiya’s voice and expression didn’t betray a sign of actual effort. “You're supposed to teach me the basics, right? So what's next? Please, teach me more.”

Ichiryuu's arms trembled: he was being pushed back. He couldn't tell when, but Yukiya’s gaze had, at some point, turned into that of an entirely different person. It was cold, terrifyingly so.

“Come on…… I’m telling you. Do it. Now!”

That instant, Yukiya vanished from his sight.

Before Ichiryuu even got a chance to tell what was happening, he felt something hit his legs. With a tumble, he plunged to the ground. He somehow managed to break off the fall safely, but it was already too late. He looked up. There was Yukiya, sporting a vicious smile from ear to ear and raising his sword as high as he could.

Ichiryuu didn't even have time to cover his face with his arms. Before he knew it, he was being assaulted by the sharp agonizing pain of a neverending flurry of blows. It felt like hail crashing all over his body.

“Huh? What's wrong, Ichiryuu? Is this truly all you can do?”

Ichiryuu let out a pained shriek and made an attempt to escape. It was pointless. The moment he tried to move away, Yukiya kicked him with all his strength.

“You sure are all bark and no bite, huh?” Yukiya laughed as he kept ruthlessly hitting the fallen Ichiryuu over and over again.

Bang. Bang. Bangbang.

The blows were so fast, he could swear the sounds they made were overlapping into one single cacophony. Ichiryuu pleaded, ‘stop, please, I'm begging you’, countless times. Finally, Yukiya's arm stopped.

“I-I'm sorry I made fun of you. That's why you're so angry, right? I'll apologize!” Ichiryuu said in between barely suppressed sobs.

“Oh,” Yukiya’s eyes opened wide, “so you were making fun of me. Didn’t know.”

And, just like that, he had made his situation exponentially worse.

Ichiryuu could feel his consciousness threatening to leave him as a sneering Yukiya picked him up by the collar. “Well, I can more or less make an educated guess. Not like I actually give a shit about how you feel about me, mind you—but that said, you really, really should think long and hard about your own position before opening that big trap of yours again.”

“My position…?”

“Today, at the tournament venue, you said that I could probably take over the position of Taruhi's Township Lord in the future, didn't you? Because I come from a better family than my brother. And you better not tell me you've forgotten,” Yukiya threatened him.

Ichiryuu audibly gulped. “Nonono! Wait! I did say it, yes, but it was under the assumption that you couldn't actually do it, you know!”

“Shut up! And listen for once in your life!” Yukiya shouted as he punched him in the face. “It doesn't matter what you were thinking. Right now, rumors about it are all over the damn place. Those two lackeys of yours sure like gossiping, huh!?”

“No! Did those two also go through this?” Ichiryuu said, startled.

“Don't look down on me,” Yukiya spat out, “those two actually understood things once I explained it to them all nicely. I'm not angry with them, I'm angry with you.”

“Then, why?”

“So you truly don't realize who you are. Incredible,” Yukiya sighed with heartfelt exasperation as he threw Ichiryuu back onto the floor. “The third son of the Shimaki Township’s Lord, Ichiryuu—an aristocrat. Low or not, it doesn’t matter.”

Yukiya picked his bamboo sword back up. He had thrown it away when he first caught Ichiryuu by the neck. “You may have meant it as some simple jealous banter, but those are still the words of a Lord's son. People will take them at face value. If someone from the Township is saying it, it must be true after all! Stupid as it may be, it gives rumors some credibility. Before you even know it, they spread like wildfire.”

——Before talking about others, you should first give some thought to what being a Township Lord's son truly entails. His father's kind words came back to Ichiryuu in a flash.

“I’m the first one to agree it's stupid for everything to be determined by one's birth, but the fact remains that we benefit from it. And at least I can say with full confidence that I have some idea of what nobility is all about.”

Yukiya slammed the sword against the palm of his own hand. He was looking down on Ichiryuu as if he were the scum of the earth. “You see, the benefits and responsibilities of a noble are equal. The only reason you haven’t had to work until now and got enough training to become third best in the North is because you’re a rural noble. How daring of you, to ignore that and go around acting all jealous of my bloodline. Imagine the disgust that those who heard you spout that crap must have felt.”

Ichiryuu found himself with no way to argue back.

“Now, listen well, Ichiryuu. I have no intention whatsoever of taking my brother's position. I don't have plans to go to the Monastery or the Center, either. I plan to spend my entire life working for my brother's sake under his command. Do you even have the slightest idea of what I've had to go through because of inconsiderate, groundless suspicions such as yours?” As he spoke, Yukiya's face twisted as if in pain.

“I propped up my brother and publicly declared I had no such ambitions. Finally, finally, everything had settled down…… And then, just when the situation had taken yet another turn for the worse because of my work at the Center, you go and open your stupid mouth. All my work gone in a single day, just like that.”

“I-I'm sorry…”

“I don't really need your apologies. Now, stand up, Ichiryuu. Weren't you going to help me train?”

Yukiya slashed the air with his sword. Still on the ground, Ichiryuu dodged the hit and crawled away in another attempt to escape. Yukiya cackled and ever so slowly started to walk after him.

“You aren't a worm. Stop crawling and stand up—if you can, that is,” Yukiya shouted at him. He was clearly enjoying himself.

Then, just at that moment—

“Stop, Yukiya!”

The dojo’s tightly closed door opened in unison with a heartrending cry. Yukima, white as a sheet, appeared at the other side. Yukiya's raised sword stopped in mid-air as his body visibly tensed.

“Brother.”

“Don’t you think that's enough? It's not like Ichiryuu truly meant us any ill.”

Yukima must have been in a hurry to find this place. Sweat dripped down his forehead and he was clearly struggling to breathe. Faced by his older brother, Yukiya looked around, as if he was just thinking about something, and finally lowered his sword.

“Is that an order?”

“What?”

“If you give me the order, I’ll follow it.”

The two brothers intently looked at each other for a while and, in the meantime, Ichiryuu could only pray as he watched them. Finally, a very saddened Yukima broke the silence.

“As the next Township Lord, I order you: stop right now.”

“Understood.”

Yukiya dropped the bamboo sword. Once again, he turned towards Ichiryuu. There was a clear, easy-going smile on his lips. “I don't think it will ever happen, but just in case: better be careful to not ever show any kind of ill will towards Taruhi. If you do, I'll be coming after you with everything I have.”

“I'm sorry, Ichiryuu. He has been going through a lot lately,” Yukima whispered before leaving the place as well. “That said, you should be careful too. We aren't only our own people, you know.”

That second part left a strong impression on Ichiryuu. “So, ‘don't be selfish’, huh… Ouch!”

Using the remaining ointment from the tournament, Ichiryuu took care of his wounds by the dojo’s veranda. Every single one of his wounds could be easily hidden away under his clothes, which was just as surprising as clearly intentional. Yukiya was obviously used to this kind of thing, albeit in a whole different sense than Ichiryuu.

There was a part of him which was shaking in fear and frustrated by what had just happened. Another, however, just felt some form of pity. He couldn't escape a feeling that he had just taken a peek behind the curtain, to the kind of life the Taruhi brothers had lived through.

From the entrance of the temple, he could hear the lively music and people's laughter.

A realization had come to him as well. If Yukiya had actually tried at the tournament, his results would have been completely different. He could feel his mood dampening by the moment. He didn't feel like going out to play, not anymore.

“Aaah, dammit!” Ichiryuu yelled, sprawling on the floor.

His family was the kind to ruthlessly hit each other during fights and throw insults all the time, and they were more like bandits than nobles. Yet, after all this time, he had finally come to notice something: they were truly fortunate, blessed even.

May as well go to the Monastery.

It would make his family happy. Plus, that way he should also be capable of fulfilling that so-called ‘responsibility’ Yukiya had talked about.

——Besides, he did say he wasn't ever going to go there.

Anyway, for the time being, better put the ‘Tiger of Shimaki’ to rest.

——————————————————

1: The festivals usually known as Kinensai (祈年祭), which is indeed to pray for good crops, and Niinamesai (新嘗祭), in which newly harvested rice is offered to the gods by the Emperor. Though they’re only tangentially mentioned, the specific timing of both of them matters, so I found it better to localize them.

2: Kagura (神楽) refers to ritual dances and songs considered sacred by Shintoism and usually performed at shrines.

#yatagarasu #yatagarasu series #the raven does not choose its master #karasu wa aruji wo erabanai #Translation: Chapter of the White Lilies #to read later

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