Winding Roads {A Creative Writing Journal}

Falling Cherry Blossoms (Sakura Blossoms Contest 2023 Winner)

  "I don't. He stopped being my father a long time ago," I whispered before calling out to Tamotsu, "I won't go back! Tell him that I won't be his tool anymore! If you take me back, I will never ask for a Message again."

      "You are not a tool," he replied sternly, chastising me like a small child, "You are his daughter, the eldest daughter of the strongest daimyo in Japan, and you are the Fox, Messenger of Inari and the bringer of his blessings. Would you squander that gift for your own selfishness? Come home, Yume."

    "We are so talking about this later," Shun mumbled so low I almost missed it.

     But the ultimatum was given. A simple life on the outskirts of war or a life tortured by visions in the heat of conflict? My answer was clear.

    "I'd rather go blind."

  "Then you leave me no choice."

   Tamotsu rushed forward, and in an instant Shun vanished from my side. Steel clashed against steel as they exchanged swipe after swipe with blinding speed and ruthless skill. I had never seen someone last so long in a duel against my former keeper, but Shun matched each blow with expert precision and grace. He danced around each strike like a reed, and every time his feet left the ground it was as though the wind could carry him away.

     "Who are you, boy?"

   Even from behind him, I could sense Shun smirking.

     "Depends on who you ask." The ring of katanas clashing interrupted each sentence. "One calls me son." Clang! "Others call me friend." Shing! "But Yume over there calls me fiancé."

     "What?!"

   If anger were tangible, Shun and I both would be ashes on the ground. However, Shun seemed less bothered by it than I was—sidestepping a jab and parrying with the grin of a kitsune.

    "But you can call me shinobi."

   For a moment the two stood with their swords pressed against each other in a test of strength.

     Tamotsu yelled at me, though his eyes never left Shun's, "You dare shame your family name with this—this dishonorable mercenary? This wraith?"

     "I thought samurai were above name calling," he chided.

     "I won't even give you the chance to take your own life," Tamotsu growled, "I'll take it myself for even looking at her, unworthy dog."

     "Not if I take yours first."

    My feet felt like they had grown roots and planted me to the ground. But I couldn't let them kill each other. And after hearing what they said, something snapped inside of me, and I felt the mark on my wrist burn.

The wind roared in my ears, and a cyclone of leaves and sakura petals surrounded us, the air becoming sharp and biting with unstable magic. I didn't care. All I could think of was that the only two men I ever cared about were fighting to the death because of me, of what I was to them.

"Stop!" I screamed and the Fox within cried with me, intertwining its voice with mine.

The two warriors were forced to obey as the wind tore them away from each other. Tamotsu slammed into the base of a cherry tree, and Shun was caught in the bows of another, clinging to its slender branches to keep from being tossed even farther.

      Gold tainted my vision. "I will not go back. If my father seeks a weapon, then he shall have to find another. I renounce my right as a Messenger of Inari! I set you free!"