Smoke flooded under the tree. The samurai emerged victorious from it, sword in hand. I gasped. There at his feet was a dead raijuu. The white wolf splayed out, unmoving. Just like it, I was rooted to the spot. I barely even noticed that the rain was stopping.

The samurai walked closer, his own kimono now soaking up the last of the rain. “Are you hurt? There is no need to be scared now.”

As he approached, I collapsed in exhaustion. I wasn’t sure how to feel or what to think. And my feet really hurt. I tried to hold back more tears as the samurai slipped the basket from my back before scooping me up into his arms with ease.

“Samurai-sama, did you kill the raijuu?”

He didn’t speak until he returned to under the shelter of the pine. Branches and cones now covered the ground with needles, but it still held strong. “I did.”

“I didn’t know raijuu could be killed.” I furiously tried wiping away tears again, hoping the samurai didn’t see. “I thought you were going to die.”

“Every living thing can be killed, by sword or by time,” he said, gently sitting me down with my back to the sturdy trunk. “Although, even I wasn’t sure a raijuu could be struck down by a sword. But I had no choice but to strike the raijuu or be struck by it.”

The samurai retrieved the basket and peered inside.
“Oh no, are they all smashed now?”

He shook his head. “I think a few are whole. May I have one?”

I nodded and studied the samurai; he was younger than I expected, all the samurai I had seen before had greying hair and many scars. I frowned at the unfamiliar flower crest on his dark kimono, and even deeper at the gold at his sleeves. Red string tied his hair back tight. Who was this samurai? He must be someone special…

Kneeling, he inspected my bare feet, pulling out a length of cloth from his kimono. “Where are your sandals?” Gently, he started wrapping each foot and tying it tight. “It’s not too bad, feet bleed a lot and so wounds appear scarier than they truly are.”

“I lost them running away. I couldn’t stop.”

“You’re safe now.” He smiled. “Let me introduce myself, my name is Akitsura Betsugi. I am a wandering samurai enjoying the forest… or was, until the storm started. And who are you?”

“Hirotoshi Aoi.” I pointed in the rough direction towards my house. “I live in the village just outside of the forest.”

Betsugi-sama finished wrapping my feet and reached for a peach before sitting down beside me. As he took a bite I looked to his sword laying unbroken on the needles.

“Betsugi-sama, what of your sword, the great raijuu killer? Is it something special to survive unbroken?”

“Hmm? Oh, my sword is very sturdy and reliable, forged by a great blacksmith. It’s called Chidori; its name means a thousand birds. I suppose it needs a new name now.” He hummed and reached for the weapon, checking down the length. “How about Raikiri, lightning cutter? A much more suitable name.”

“I like it! Raikiri, the slayer of raijuu.”

I watched as Betsugi-sama continued to check Raikiri before sheathing it back into a white scabbard. The blade glowed faintly with heat but was still whole. I couldn’t believe we had both survived a raijuu, and it now lay a stone’s throw from us. I was too exhausted to think about it, and in the dying light I couldn’t see much anyway. Tomorrow I would get a better look.

Together we sat in a quiet companionship as the rain slowed into the faintest drizzle. A little light still peeked over the tops of the trees and offered a way back home.

“Aoi-kun, I think it’s time to get you home. It’s too dark to go back for your sandals, but I can guide you back to the village.” Nodding, I tried to climb to my feet and winced as the pain came flooding back. “Stop, let me carry you.”

“A-Are you sure?”

He stopped to slide Raikiri into his obi and then bent down in front of me. “Place the basket on your back and climb on my back.”

I quickly did as he said and held onto his shoulders tight as he stood up. Betsugi-sama’s wet hair stuck to my face and I had to lean to one side to avoid it. Together we started back on the path, heading towards the village. Trees towered around us, looming in the dying light. I worried raijuu slept in them ready to start another attack as we passed below. They could be anywhere and we wouldn’t be able to see them until it was too late.

“You’re safe now, Aoi-kun. The storm has past and Raijin has stopped drumming. There won’t be any raijuu around now. And you did well to escape this one. Perhaps you would have made a good samurai, had you lived in the city.”

I sighed. I loved to see the samurai who passed through our village or paused there to rest. I always volunteered to help them where I could, from feeding their horses to carrying armour for repair. But our little village didn’t need samurai; it needed hands to help with farming and gathering. And so I picked the berries, seeds, and nuts and found the mushrooms. Then when my father told me, I helped in the forge. On special days, if I was lucky, I also aided the priest with offerings to Inari. In return they blessed our village with more to harvest.

“Betsugi-sama, why did you become a samurai?”

“I didn’t choose,” he replied quietly. “I started training at three years old and it’s all I have known. But now I can see much of the country, which I enjoy.”

“I wish I could be a samurai too.”

“But then who would pick the peaches?” he asked gently.

One of the other boys. Or our neighbour Jurou-san with the missing hand. If my father had moved to the city to be with the other blacksmiths things would have been better. Mother would get treated by better people and I would have been able to be a samurai. But we lived in the forest village.

We were silent for the rest of the walk, and I kept looking for the first sign of the village. Our priest had a small house beside the shrine which sat next to the forest path. He had told me he built it there to be closer to the large ash tree. It didn’t take long before I could see it peeking out from between the trees, lit by a small fire.

“The village is close now,” I said, pointing towards the shrine. “There’s the shrine to Inari. I need to fill it with peaches.”

“Then I shall stop here.”

“What? Why?”

Betsugi-sama knelt down and slipped me from his back with care, then turned to face me. “I don’t wish for the praise and celebration that the village will give me. I want to stay hidden here in the forest.”

I pouted. “Will you at least come and meet my mother and father?”

Betsugi-sama shook his head.

“Alright then, I will walk the last bit myself. See you again soon sometime, Betsugi-sama. Thank you for protecting me.”

“Another day, little samurai.”

I stepped carefully, walking towards the shrine. My feet ached, but I was surprised to find the sharp pains had subsided and as I reached the lit fire, I gasped. The cloth wrapping my feet glittered gold. How could he use such expensive cloth on my feet? Who was that samurai?

“Hirotoshi!” A familiar voice cried out from beside the fire.

“Mother!” A second later and I was tight in her arms, warm and safe. “You don’t need to worry, I am here.”

“I always worry about you, my only son. What would I do without you?”

“You would worry less,” I said with a giggle.

“We worried when the storm started,” the priest said appearing beside her. “I was about to come look for you when Haru-san said you were still in the forest.”

“I was getting peaches when it started to rain. Mother, I saw a raijuu! It chased me but Betsugi-sama killed it. It’s in the forest now, dead under the giant pine.”

“A raijuu?” she cried, holding me tighter and checking me over. “You are very lucky my son. Who is Betsugi-sama? I need to thank him. Where are your sandals? Oh look at your feet.”

“Oh,” I squeaked, not meaning to let his existence slip. “A passing samurai. He left already.”

“That’s a shame, I would have liked to have thanked him. Come, let’s go home. I’m tired and we need to get you dry and check your feet.”

*

The morning brought clear skies, the clouds were nowhere to be seen after the previous storm. I’d woken up extra early, hoping to return to the forest to look at the raijuu before it was burnt. The priest had spoken to the other villagers and ordered the body put to flames to purify the forest; he worried the body would lure other dangerous yokai to us. Shinigami were drawn to the death and could lurk around the body, haunting any of us who visited the forest. I’d never seen the grey human-like figures, but I’d learnt all about them from the priest Shouhei-shinpu. He’d once lived in a village haunted by them, possessing a murderous ronin. I’d stopped listening after that, scared of hearing what he’d done.

I shuddered. How many other people or animals were struck down by the raijuu before it came after me? Would it be my fault if the shinigami cursed us?

I also planned on finding my lost sandals wherever they lay, scattered and soaking. Mother was too worried to let me go on ahead alone, and so I had to wait for my father to join me. She’d seen the gold wrappings Betsugi-sama had used on my feet and insisted I look for him to repay my debts. They’d fought again, my parents, because she wanted to take them to the river to wash away the dirt. All her worrying had tired her out again, that’s what my father said.

Mother had woken before me, she didn’t sleep much any more. I wondered if she slept at all, seeing the dark circles surrounding her darker eyes. I should pray to Inari again this morning. Perhaps she can help me find something to make my mother sleep more.

I sat now on the worn out enza, counting the peaches which were unbruised from yesterday. The grass cushion had flattened after so much use, but I found it comfortable. It also helped me see into the basket where mushed fruit coated the inside.

Smash.

I jumped in surprise and dropped the peach. My mother stood, hands shaking, tears falling. The teapot lay on its side on top of broken cups, spilling hot water over the tatami mat.

“Haru,” my father cried, hurrying to lift the teapot upright.

“I only wanted to make you both tea…”

“It… will be fine, please just—”

“Those cups were a gift,” she cried. “I… I—”

I rushed to her side, hugging her tight.

Her tears fell heavier now and my father joined us. Reaching out, he wiped them away before placing a quick kiss on her forehead.

“Hirotoshi,” he said, voice wobbling with worry. “Why don’t you take her to the shrine with you. Some air might help.”

I nodded and took hold of her hand. “We can look for that sparrow on the way. The one with the golden beak that you saw before.

“But the cups…”

“Father will fix them. He is clever like that.”

She calmed down a little then, squeezing my hand back. I led her to the door, helped her put sandals on, and stepped out into the fresh warm air.

It was a short walk to the shrine, although each of my mother’s steps were slow and heavy.

“When did you last see the sparrow?” I asked, trying to take her mind away.

“Not for days now.” She paused to catch her breath before taking another step. “I think I scared it off. Oh, H-H—my son. I need to rest.”

“Look mother, Inari’s shrine is right there. We can sit and rest and pray. Inari will be pleased to hear your voice.”

She nodded slightly, her eyelids dropping heavier. I rushed through purifying our hands with water so we could approach the shrine and let go only when we stood in front. I helped her kneel down on the bare dirt and joined her. Seeing my mother like this always hurt and I hoped that if I prayed harder today, maybe Inari would hear. Perhaps we needed to set a small shrine in our house too, so she didn’t have walk out here.

“Oh, I forgot to bring the peaches.” I said worried Inari wouldn’t listen without them. “But I promise to bring them later. Once we have dealt with the raijuu. Please will you and Ukemochi watch over my mother, like you protect my father at the forge. She is here today too, please will you bless her.”

I glanced over to my mother. Her eyes were shut now, head drooping to one side. Had she fallen asleep? I reached out to shake her gently and she fell forwards.

“Mother? Mother?” I caught her and wrapped my arms around hers. “Somebody, please help!”

I scanned around, but nobody was awake yet. Only the two white fox statues watched us with wide eyes.

“Inari, please,” I cried.