Sentarō trembled in fear, he had always believed that his determination would carry him to his dream. Yet, as he stood frozen under the weight of Ujiyuki's killer stare, a chilling truth dawned on him, sometimes, determination could just as easily lead to his end.
The silence in the room was suffocating, broken only by the distant chorus of crickets, frogs, and flies outside in the late night. Ujiyuki's footsteps echoed against the tatami as he closed in on the boy, his eyes burning with irritation.
Sentarō, frail and weakened from his injuries, could do nothing but brace himself.
"It seems I've entertained too much of your annoying attitude, you damn kid," Ujiyuki growled, his face glowing bright red as he raised his fist, ready to strike.
Sentarō's froze in fear, his heart stopped as Ujiyuki stood before Sentaro with his face stern and serious.
"Listen, kid, I have my reasons for refusing to train you so." Ujiyuki said, his tone stern and serious. "But if you still insist on becoming a samurai then answer this question…"
Ujiyuki then took another cup of sake, exhaling out in delight.
"Why do you wish to become a samurai?"
The question left Sentaro completely stunned. Silence lingered for a while as Sentaro didn't have an answer to that question.
"Exactly, kid" Ujiyuki said pointing his sake bottle at Sentaro's face
"Huh?"
"What do you mean? And how does it have to do with you training me?" Sentaro asked clearly annoyed and frustrated as his eyes kept twitching.
"Simply put…You lack conviction, boy"
Sentaro eyes widened in mild shock at Ujiyuki's respense. He glared at Ujiyuki's red drunken face with the single word "Conviction" on his mind trying to grasp it meaning.
"Conviction?" Sentaro asked in confusion trying to understand Ujiyuki.
"That's right, you lack conviction, a reason to actually push you to become a strong samurai…" Ujiyuki then laid on his side facing away from Sentaro while resting his head on his arm.
"...and I refuse to train someone without proper convictions not again."
"But I-"
"You probably think being a samurai is all about honor, riches and fame, you're wrong" Ujiyuki continued
"The life of a samurai is filled with loss, blood and death only the few who climb on those corpses of both friend and foe can actually make it to the mountain peak called fame" Ujiyuki then took another gulp of sake this time directly from the bottle. The way he spoke was different, as if he wasn't talking about just samurai in general but of himself.
But that wasn't the point, the point was that Ujiyuki was right and Sentaro knew it. The first thin that comes to mind whenever he thinks of the samurai is fame and power, never did he once thought that the samurai lived a life following that conduct.
Silence from both Sentaro and Ujiyuki devoured the room leaving only the crickets, frogs and howling of the wind in the cold of the night. There was still more to know about being a samurai but now Sentaro understood that his worldview he had of the samurai was wrong and it needs to change for him to become one, A samurai for the Shisengumi.
"I'm sorry, Mister Ujiyuki, I was wrong to think that--"
GRRRRHHH!!!
A sudden noise sounding like a roaring tiger-bear erupted scaring Sentaro into wild shivers and cutting him off, it was loud enough to shake the walls. But as Sentaro looked closer it was none other than Ujiyuki.
He was fast asleep.
Sentarō blinked in disbelief, his chest heaving as relief washed over him.
"H-He actually fell asleep!" he whispered, quickly covering his mouth so as not to wake the man.
Cautiously, he leaned closer, confirming Ujiyuki's slumber. Once certain, he slipped out of his futon with painstaking care. Only then did he notice the interior of the house for the first time, curiosity tugging at him until he decided to explore.
The house was not large, yet it contained an unusual number of rooms. The first one Sentarō entered was dimly lit by the candle he carried. His eyes widened.
Two samurai armors stood on opposite sides of the room, their brilliant red and deep blue lacquer gleaming even in the weak light.
"Oh my… amazing," Sentarō whispered, his face lighting up like a child at a festival.
The urge to touch them gnawed at him, but the candle would not last long, and he forced himself onward.
The next room left him speechless.
Inside was an arsenal, rows of weapons, enough to equip an army of sixty men. Spears, naginata, bows, and blades filled the racks.
"Oh my goodness, this is quite an amazing sight!" Sentarō exclaimed under his breath, more delighted than he had ever been.
But one weapon stood out to him: a katana. Its black sheath was trimmed with crimson highlights, the hilt wrapped in black with three delicate red flowers engraved upon it. Sentarō's hand trembled as he lifted it, marveling at its weight and beauty.
His excitement was abruptly shattered.
A firm hand clamped down on his shoulder.
"Hey, kid," a gravelly voice slurred, "What do you think you're doing, huh?"
Sentarō spun around in terror. Ujiyuki stood there, dreary-eyed, rubbing his temple as though nursing a headache.
"M-Mister. Ujiyuki? I thought you were drunk and asleep!" Sentarō stammered.
"Huh? Oh, right. I'm really good with sake," Ujiyuki boasted with a crooked grin. "All I need is a nap and some time."
His smile vanished in an instant.
"But forget about that, what the hell do you think you're doing here?" His face twisted in anger.
Remembering how terrifying Ujiyuki can be from earlier, Sentarō dropped to his knees, forehead nearly touching the floor.
"I'm really sorry for my behavior, sir!" he pleaded, his voice trembling.
Though genuine, the apology was fueled more by fear than remorse. Ujiyuki, seasoned in reading men's hearts, recognized it instantly. A flicker of guilt crossed his face as he recalled his drunken rage.
Without another word, he took the candle from Sentarō's hand.
"Follow me, kid."
Confused but silent, Sentarō obeyed. They passed several doors one of which the inside was a study filled with books, scrolls, and painted walls depicting fierce samurai in battle. The brushwork was so lifelike it seemed the warriors might leap from the parchment.
Until they reached one unlike the others, a sliding door of pure white, adorned with black floral designs and red accents.
"Alright, for the time being this is going to be your room."
Sentarō walked in cautiously, still unsettled. "My room?"
"Like I said, I don't want to train you but you can stay here until you're fully healed of course."
Overwhelmed, Sentarō dropped to his knees again, this time not out of fear but gratitude.
"Thank you so much, Mr. Ujiyuki!"
"Whoa, calm down, kid. You're still recovering," Ujiyuki said, his voice softening as he noticed the boy wince in pain.
"And besides, I said till you fully recover then no matter the reason you're going home." Ujiyuki remined sentaro. "Of course, I'm still grateful" Sentaro replied with a forced smile attached to his face.
A sharp pain then hit him not physically but emotionally, after all he had done, now he has to return to the home he was ready to reject to achieve his dream.