[Hachirou] As Things Go

Subject: [Hachirou] As Things Go Sun Jul 18, 2010 4:32 am

[Haruto Hachirou. Backstory and Things.]

Haruto Hachirou – The Seventeenth Year

thump thump thump…

Amidst the village of merry and cheer – across the land, stretched far and wide, littered with many a working man – beneath the sky; painted blue, dotted with white…

thump thump thump…

Through the land; that familiar smell. Flowing over the streets. Ducking into doorways. Squeezing into nook and cranny. Filling both nose, and heart. The scent, the heavy and musky scent, mixed of sweet peaches, freshly slaughtered livestock, sweat of the worker’s brow. Visitors from other lands deem it irritating, unnerving or foul. But, to those people; those men and women, those young and old, those human and those beast. It was the smell not of something gone foul, or a problem coming on the winds, but instead, the smell of which only one word could ever describe: Home. It was the smell of Caotang, the farmer’s ‘city’. The harvester’s market. The place where well wishes, concern for thy neighbor and hard work brought a life that was filled with everything necessary. The place where everyone’s busy, but no one’s rushing.

thump thump thump…

Perhaps, however, it was natural; no, necessary, that this one person was in fact, rushing. Yes, he was the exception that proved the rule. The boy, or rather the young man, heavy of foot and kind of heart, ‘thump-thump-thumped’ through the street, carrying the small beige bag in one hand and the neatly woven basket in the other. The bag, holding commission for services rendered to his employer, and the basket carrying fruit which lay beneath the cloth. Short, deep breaths falling from his mouth with every step as he moves closer and closer to the center of the town. More and more, step by step, foot by foot and yard by yard, he goes further along the heavily beaten path. The familiar scent, changing lightly, subtly but distinctly to those in the town. Like the difference between fresh water and salt water fish. It was a deep, lingering smell, that seemed to drift down to the bottom of one’s lung and debilitate breathing. A mixture of smog and burning charcoal, coming in a puffy stream from the top of one brick-built building.

thump thump thump… “Haaa… Haaa…” thump thump thump…

The man, whose breath now seems to be almost entirely gone, steadily slows to a stop outside that building. With a moment’s pause, his shoulder rubs against the wooden door and he enters. Opposite the opening, beyond the makeshift counter, a large, elderly, bear of a man – face fraught with black soot and scorch marks, tying together with saggy cheeks of age and experience, and perhaps wisdom – sat. Sweat dripping from his brow, his tense face eases just an inch as he recognizes the boy. Standing up, attempting to clean his face with the back of his glove but to no avail, he welcomes his fellow man’s return. “Hachirou. Did everything go well?” Another moment’s pause. A few more deep breaths from the tired one, and his face livens up, rising his spoils with a shining smile befitting an innocent child. “Yes, master!”

.
..
…Pushing open the door, expending that last bit of energy I have remaining, I take a final step inside and let the exhaustion on my face and in my body fly out of me. I was, for all intents and purposes, home, and successful. My first job, as a meager blacksmith’s errand boy! It was… exciting! Something so simple, but yet, it was still a job! I’d had to go to three different homesteads, carrying well over twenty pounds worth of gear and equipment to each of them, and they were each a good mile apart. It was to be done in under an hour, and I had managed it in just fifty short minutes. While it may be silly to take pride in something as menial as that, I couldn’t help myself. The joy on my face as my master asked me if everything was completed was evident as I caught my breath. Answering with perhaps a bit too chipper of a response, I stepped forward and placed the bag of coin and the basket of goods both on the counter.

The master, moving from his position over the furnace, untied the loosely strung string that held the bag up, and poured it out over the wooden table carelessly. As if seeking immediate approval, I would accompany his counting of the fees garnered with my own recollection of the trip. “That’s 60shinny from the Shimamura family for six sets of horseshoes and another 20shinny for the set of hoe blades from last week. Then there’s 30shinny from the Okato plantation for repairing their shears and the new set of cooking knives, and 50shinny from Iwatani for the delivery of their custom sword hilt, plus 100shinny for the sharpening stone. Additionally, these goods were from the Shimamura family as an additional token of thanks. They’re freshly picked!”

And yet, despite my cheer, or perhaps because of it, he remained stoic. My heart sank slightly, as I thought, perhaps, I had made a mistake. I had counted it once, twice, three times in all. Every time, it came out as the expected amount. He was never an animated boss, but I had thought he would have at least had some sort of positive reaction for my supposed success. Did he perhaps dislike how much time I took? Was the hour timer a gift that he perhaps expected me to need all but half of? Or worse, was it all fake? I almost whimpered when I thought of him, an experienced blacksmith of master skill level deducing counterfeited coins with only an aside glance, while I, the first-timer rookie who counted it multiple times couldn’t even fathom that idea.

But, then, suddenly, he halted. His fingers let fall the last shinny. It seemed as if he had personally inspected them all. Each. Individually. Was he predicting I would make a mistake? “Very good…” was his answer. Eh? Very good? Wait, as in… I did it?! Successfully!? My face, I could feel it, welled up and fought a great battle to hold back the smile that was slowly winning and creeping across, from cheek to cheek. “R-Really? Good job? Very good job?! It’s all there? I didn’t mess up?!”

“Did you think you had?”

“Wuh.. Well no, but, you paused for so long and…” The happiness that had captured my expression faltered lightly at the thought. Quickly, however, it was revived with his assuring voice. “You did fine. Don’t doubt yourself. I paused because I had to make sure it was all there. Not because it all wasn’t there. That’s the first lesson you should learn: when dealing with money, always, ALWAYS, take your time. Count it out. Make sure it’s right. Whether it’s the shinny you’re getting, or the shinny you’re giving out. If you’re shorted, seek out proper payment. If you fail to get it, know not to deal with them again. If you short them, seek to reconcile. Seek to keep them as a customer. Whether you fail to give or receive, money shortages in transactions can sever a good business partnership, and cause an even greater loss of profit down the road.” Saying this, he slides down a bit and uncovers the basket, reaching in an inspecting one of the red fruits before partaking in its delicious meat. I make sure to attentively listen to his words, as one day, when I would run a business of my own, it’d surely be sage advice. After all, he IS my master, so he must know what he’s talking about.

After another bite, he reaches into the basket’s warmth and cradles a small handloaf in his large, leathery fingers. With a slight flick of the wrist, it’s sent in my direction and catches me off guard, causing me to juggle it twice before I can get a true grip on it. Confused, I look at him, and see a rare smile donning on his visage. “Eat that, quickly, and go into the back. By the second small anvil, there are two more sacks to be sent to the Akimura clan’s farm down on the south end. I wrote a note there that should give you all the directions. It’s two full chest plates with four sets of chainmail beneath. It’ll be 100 per chest plate and another 70 for each chainmail set, so 480shinny. Now that I know you can count, I can trust you with these larger dealings. Your test is over, and you passed, but the real deal as an errand boy is just beginning. Get to work! It’s heavy, but you’ve only got thirty minutes this time since it’s just one stop!” The handloaf, still pointedly warm, mirrored how my heart felt at that moment. That feeling of trust, that someone outside of my family actually was giving me… I quickly dashed into the backroom before he could see my immature tears of happiness. “Yes, master! I’ll do you proud! I’ll really really do you proud!”

WC: 1505/1505

Subject: Re: [Hachirou] As Things Go Sun Jul 18, 2010 4:35 am

Haruto Hachirou – The Eighteenth Year

A year passes. As anyone would expect. Time flows. Those are the rules. But, I’m fine with that. If I could, I’d stay in this village forever, where I have my calming job as a simple errand boy, running from here to there, enjoying that dubious smell of sweets meats and hard work. Unlike a lot of people from outside the village, time is not my enemy. I’m in no rush to do anything except deliver my next set of goods to the customer. I don’t have any unnecessary goals in my life that I need to do quickly. All I need to concentrate on is being a normal, productive person. Another link in the chain!

“Eugh! It smells like sulfur in here!” These words ring through the noisy smithy, barely coming out atop the crackling of earth and fire blending in a vicious cycle of violence atop the anvil. Turning to my side, a look of worry unbecoming a man of my age marks my face. “E-‘eh?! S-sulfur?! It doesn’t really.. does it?!” I frantically look to my master in fear; even if I had only been his assistant/delivery boy for a year, I had learned a few things, one of which being the poor effects sulfur would have in the crafting of metal.

“Calm down, Hachirou. He just means the smell in here is strong, which it is. There’s no sulfur here. I’m using a charcoal batch anyhow.” My master, not even flinching under the mention of sulfur in the smithy, calms me with his words. Both his wellbeing and my own depend on the success of his shop, and simply the negative reputation that can come with one critical failure could cause the collapse of the entire business, and sulfur is just the thing to cause such a weakness. “Anyway, Ayanor. I apologize for the smell, but what can I do for you? Do you have an order, or was there a problem with some earlier work?”

“No, no such problem. I’ve just come to order a new set of knives. My… daughter is having trouble learning. I’d love it if you could craft me a set that’s sharp enough still to cut, but not one that will easily pierce human flesh. It’s not like I’ll let someone of her age cut anything that tough.”

“Yes, of course not… alright then, come on into the back. I’ve some molds you can take a look at. See which one suits your needs best.” As the master says this, he lifts the curtain into the back, inviting the rather lanky man inside. Before turning to follow him, however, he notices me still standing in the doorway. Furrowing his brow, he barks “Hachirou! What are you doing? You’ve your bags, do you not?” and points to the two sacks that lay at my feet. “You’re a man, aren’t you? Get going! The Aragi family is waiting for their delivery! Now get going!”

Hearing the master’s voice raised, I nearly leap out of my skin in surprise. I knew he was not angry, but rather, simply reminding me. He’s what several people would call a… ‘hardass’, and I had grown used to it by now, but it was still somewhat scary. “Ah! Alright! Yes! Right! Got it, I’ll go! 200 arrow heads, and four sets of skinning knives! Yes sir! I’ll be back within the hour!”

Darting out of the store, one sack lying over each shoulder, I scurry down the foot-and-hoof beaten road frequented by farmer and hunter alike. There weren’t that many smithys around the city of Caotang, and it was one of the closest to the center of town, so it had a lot of traffic, naturally. Even though I’ll make delivery after delivery, going in and out as many as twenty times in a day, I only do slightly more than ten percent of his total business. But, of course, blacksmithing is a tiring business and is also expensive, as the city of Caotang doesn’t have a very high level of natural resources that a blacksmith can use, so much of it is all imported. Regardless, I still get paid well for what I do, so I can’t complain.

Running down these streets, though tiring, is refreshing. I feel as if I truly am a member of the community; as if the land itself, shaped and scarred with generations of warfare and peace, moving forward with every invention and falling back with each failure, whose story’s are all carried upon the wings of the wind which could carry one from the far away seas to this little farming hub in a day’s time; I feel as if I belong here. I hear the stories of my neighbors, of their pains and triumphs, of the shepherd’s daughter Mariabelle’s pregnancy . I can stop and talk with the housewives who hang their clothes on the line in the afternoon, letting them dry in the warmth of the rising and falling sun. The men who work the land will wave and call greetings to me; they give me words of encouragement and tease me of my slow feet, telling me the goods will rust before I get there. These jokes, these experiences, they all fill me with the warmth I can only assume is similar to that of the drying cloth.

With every corner I round on my way to the Aragi family’s plantation, my feet ache and my lungs heave, but I feel no pain. It is that wonderful life that one leads when they enjoy their everyday time and their work. The idiom, ‘do what you enjoy, and you’ll never work a day in your life’ was told to me by my father when I was very little, and I never understood how one could enjoy anything that would be labeled as work, but now, on days like these, I truly come to grasp what they mean. Is that the difference between a child and an adult? Is it that sort of mature understanding?

Stopping, now, at last, with a quarter hour’s worth of running behind me now, I gaze upwards as if looking to the sky. Only when your head is stretched back that far, it seems, could you see the building’s top. It’s only a two story home, but with the architecture stands so grand that it seems to tower above. At the door, stands a gentle looking young lady; the first daughter of the family, who, despite her nice façade and cool demeanor, actually works as her father’s right hand in the field, tending to the animals as he allows himself to focus solely on the crops. It seems, however, she was the one who would be awaiting my arrival on this day. “Punctual as usual, Hachirou.” While not romantically interested in her, or anyone in particular, I can’t hold back a blush at how she says my name. Perhaps I’m still a boy as the master said?

“Yes, right. I have your brother’s order here, for his trip this weekend. 200 arrowheads and the skinning knives your father ordered. It’s… 250shinny in total.” I recall, admittedly peaking at the order note left by the master. However, to my dismay...

“Hm?! Oh, is that so? I was told it was only 200shinny in total. I only have that much on me, and the others have gone out to the Karinsi family to do trading!” A-ahh… oh, nooo.. what now? This hasn’t happened before, even in the year’s time. Only once, actually, had it happened, and it had been at the shop where the master was there to take care of things. Under the circumstances, what would he say? What would he do? Or, rather, what would he want me to do? A-ahh, first thing, make sure I don’t upset the customer- “Hmhm. Ahh, just kidding, Hachirou. I was just joking. I do have the 250shinny. Your flustered face is just too cute to pass up on seeing every once and a while. I’ll hope you’ll forgive me.”

These words put me at ease, and I’m too relieved to be angry, though I do manage a short, “Ahhhn, don’t tease me like that. I don’t know how to handle situations like that without the master.” She laughs at this, and steps inside for a moment. Returning with the money in a small tied bag, we exchange, and her brother comes out soon after to inspect the material as the sister counts each arrowhead individually. They both are found to be content, and all the money is there. We chat for a short amount of time, and I bid them farewell. Now, it had been a half hour since I had left the smithy, so I knew I had plenty of time to spare. But, regardless, I would make haste in going back, as those extra five minutes can add up to one more delivery by the end of the day.

My feet rested, and my back much lighter, the only thing which would hold me down would be my pockets, filled with the commission. Up ahead, however, as I round the first turn away from the Aragi family’s home, there is some incident involving a farmer’s cart and what I can only assume to be a small group of people from another village. Troublemakers, I can make out, by the way they raise their voice and yell at the man messing with the broken wheel. I stop, and feel that aching in my heart; the nagging voice telling me to help. My father tells me that voice; that begging; that aching is what proves me a man, as no real man could stand down when faced with something that goes against his sense of justice.

But… I’m just an errand boy. I have no experience in serious fighting, and I have no weapon to defend myself with. Those men, on the other hand, all have some sort of wooden sword slung to their sides, or held up proudly on their shoulder, as if to intimidate those around. Several of the men, working near the road, step up, with their hoes and cutting blades in hand, joining in the assaulted man’s defense. Seeing the warms my heart and gives me the courage to join in alongside them, but as it stands, doing so would seem like I’m simply siding with whoever seems to have the advantage on their side. I’m sure, though, he’ll be fine, and with a slight move of the hips, I shift course to go around them and continue on my way…

Until, unfortunately, a hand reaches out and grabs me by the back collar of my rags. Jerking me back, the front of my clothing pulls against my throat, choking me slightly and causing me to stumble with something of a hacking cough. When I regain myself, I peer up, seeing that it was what I had expected, despite deeply wishing I was wrong. One of the men, scar over his chin, stretching down, down, deep across his neck and past the collar of his shirt. I wonder momentarily how he managed to get something like that and survive. Regrettably, I don’t think I’ll have the option to ask him, as he quickly reaches down to the front of my rags once more, pulling me up on my feet and to his face. His voice roars with apparent anger, and I don’t catch all of it, but I can make out that he… is annoyed by the jingling of money? Is he… referring to the shinny in my pocket?! H-he intends to rob me? Right here? In front of everyone? N-no.. that’s too embarrassing. I can’t let him, but, I can’t make myself move to stop him. “You think you’re a big shot? With that kind of change on you, you shouldn’t be runnin’ around without a care, ya’ little fuck! Damn bastard children these days… if you’ve got so much that you can just go ‘round one of your friends when he’s in a bind like this, why don’t you give me some? Maybe if I had some more cash on me, I could get drunk, and forget things like this ‘ere happened!”

Oh no~.. What would master have me do? I can’t just turn tail and run here, when, like the man said, one of our own is in trouble. I have the ability to fix this situation according to the delinquent type guy, but… if I give him my money, master will probably just take it out of my next pay, and then fire me for good for being so irresponsible with money. But… but… I just can’t do nothing! Even if I have to try to find another job, and give up this lifestyle which I love so much, I could never forgive myself if I don’t do something!

“H-Here… Just take-” But before I reach into my pocket, I’m cut off as the man suddenly drops me to the ground, falling hard on my ass. The sudden release is a jolt to my senses, and at first, I fail to realize just what is happening. But upon rubbing my head and gazing to my side, the fellow who was just holding me was my partner on the dirt path. “W-Wha?!” I mutter, before two of the farmer men step in front oh me. Apparently they had intervened on my behalf..!

“Hachirou, get going. Let us take care of us. You’ve no reason to get involved unnecessarily.”
“Your master’s waiting. Get that commission back on time, or we’ll tell your master you were fooling around.”

“Wait, you can’t expect me to..” I interject, but more and more step in front of me. Before I realize it, I’m back, on my feet and stepping away. Inch by inch, foot by foot and yard by yard, I go from simply crawling away, to a full on sprint. Away from them. Away from the trouble. From the fight. I tell myself I’d just be a hindrance. I tell myself there’s nothing I can do. I repeat over and over in my mind, “It’s for the best! Me getting hurt won’t do anyone good! The master needs to get the commission as soon as possible!”

I tell myself it’s for the best. I tell myself it’s what I should be doing. But then, why does my heart say that I’m so wrong..?

WC: 2398/3902

Subject: Re: [Hachirou] As Things Go Mon Jul 19, 2010 2:17 am

Haruto Hachirou – The Nineteenth Year

Emptiness. Loneliness. Devoid of all life. It’s depressing, yet I can only describe it like that; not a soul inhabits the blacksmith shop aside from my master and I. Normally bustling with activity, the current state of affairs finds itself strictly on the opposite side of the spectrum, without a single entrant from midmorning until now, as night creeps across the horizon treading on the heels of the sun’s recent departure.

By the door, I rest my body after an underwhelming day’s work, but I cannot bring rest to my heart. The incessant nagging, aching, and overall uncomfortable feeling welling up inside begs at me to plead with master for work. It’s not out of boredom, nor frustration, yet only out of an earnest desire to earn my pay. I already feel as if I am a burden on him, as someone like me does not seem like the type you could trust with your money or your goods. Master himself has admitted to worrying about me, especially after what incidents there have been. There were the pickpockets I had come across on my second week of work, dropping and damaging the goods as they were being delivered, and less than a year ago, I was nearly killed by a handful of thugs I had run across on my way back from the Aragi family’s home. With how poorly I handled myself, and how seriously I was scolded for running away by the master, it’s a wonder that I’ve been blessed with enough luck to retain my job here. But, that’s why… that’s why I want to be useful! I want to be of use to my master whenever I can, so on days like these, I develop an uncharacteristic restlessness. I fidget, pick up the cloth rags I wear and watch the doorway as if I wanted to leave. Multiple times, the master had offered to allow me early leave today, yet I was determined to stay, giving reasons akin to “What if we suddenly get busy all at once?” or “I could at least try and give you some company.” To which he would mumble something under his breath and return to the blade he was crafting at the time. Ah! Wait, was my presence actually troubling him? I mean, it’s natural to be upset that there’re no customers, but I hadn’t thought that perhaps it would be a good chance for him to actually be alone.

“M-Master… wwwould you like me to leave? Am I bothering you?” I mutter lightly, below my normal merry voice and without much confidence at all.
“Hm? Was it not you who reminded me of the trouble I’d be in were the shop to suddenly busy itself?” His words sound at first as if he was mocking me, but I knew the master was not that kind of person. He did not have a mocking bone in his body. It was all work, work. Something I was envious of. Either way, I still make a sudden stand from my corner in defense of him against his own words.
“While it’s true I said something like that, master, I didn’t mean that you’d be in trouble! I just mentioned I’d be of help! I’m sure the master would be completely capable of dealing with anything that came up, since it’s you, after all.” In spite of my earnest words, he looks – or perhaps rather glares – at me for a moment, before returning to his work in the silence of the shop.

I suppose, though, it’s to be expected. This is always the slow time of year, and there are always slow days, naturally. When harvesting work is set to a minimum, and people mostly keep to themselves in doors. Yet I can’t help but shake the disappointment in myself for doing no work, even when no work exists for me to be done. I can only watch my master’s back as he hammers away on the heated blade. I had wondered who it was for, as I never saw anyone commission a blade recently, and he seemed to be particularly earnest in making it. Heating it and reheating it, as all true smiths will do, yet startlingly thorough in this process for this piece. The material did not look like anything special, so I could guess it was not commissioned by a royal, and he only worked on it when other work wasn’t a priority, so perhaps it was just something new he had decided upon doing for himself? He did not work with blades or general weaponry much, so did he think his skills were slipping? Impossible. My master is incredible with all his work, so that couldn’t be it at all! He’s also not the type to doubt oneself, so I feel stupid for thinking that as soon as it enters my mind.

And then, suddenly, all at once, the quiet seems to cease. Everything does. The clank-clank of his hammer falling repeatedly down on the steel halts, and his body seems motionless. Not even the empty void, it feels, exists at this point. It was as if even nothingness didn’t exist. Like I was stuck in a painting hung on a royal’s bedroom wall. “M-master?” I murmur, my voice sounding as if I was down on my knees in desperation for an explanation. The large figure that was my master turns, and looks at me with those stern eyes. From the table, he picks up a small bag of coins that I had nearly forgotten were there. In fact, when did he take them out? What were they for? He never did tell me that. Honestly I don’t even recall when I noticed them. All these questions would go unanswered, as the coin falls into my hands. At that point it was just a reflex to catch them. I didn’t even notice I had at first. Looking at the bag, then to my master, and then once more I fix my gaze on the pouch.
“Ayamoto.” He says, answering my question before I ask.
“’E-Eh? Mmmaster?”
“The Ayamoto smithy. On the other side of town. I imagine I do not need to tell you how to get there.”
“R-right! Right, yes sir!” I say, recalling the location as I had been there before. It wasn’t common, but more so than many other particular homes. The Ayamoto smithy was run by a colleague of my master, and they were good friends who would often trade spare bits that the other would require for a sudden project. My master always said it was a good idea to get along with everyone in town, and that included your competition.

Darting out of the storefront, I realized I had no idea what I was actually going for. Perhaps there was a note inside the pouch? Peeking inside, I did not see one. Did master forget? Or was it some top-secret item? That idea brought a childlike grin on my face, what with the idea of my master have some silly little secret, until the thought of it being illegal dawned upon me. Shaking it out of my mind, I assured myself that my master was not that kind of person! Which he truly wasn’t! He’s the kind who does things by the book: if he didn’t want to tell me what it was, then I simply didn’t need to know! Besides, Ayamoto would obviously know what I was coming for, if I told him it was my master who had sent me, so there was no reason for me to be worried. All I had to do was focus on having my legs carry me across the creepily barren hoof-beaten dirt paths to the rivaling smithy. It was what I did best, after all, and was the one thing someone had enough confidence for me in to actually pay me to do it.

Stepping into the small, stone-laid home, the familiar smell hit me instantly. Just like that of my master’s. They were nearly identical. Of course, the smell will change daily, depending upon independent variables like the metal being crafted and what is heating the furnace, but in general, they both reeked with hard work and hell’s fire of forge. The man behind the counter, Ayamoto, was considerably smaller in size than my master; rather lanky, to be truthful. And yet, the power in his arms was evident from the long days of tireless work he put forth. Running a successful forge was not easy, I could tell, and even if you worked hard, that didn’t guarantee success. He must have had some sort of secret knowledge or wisdom beneath that lightly disheveled package: the true heart of a blacksmith my master talks about so much. Seeing me, though, he smiles warmly almost instantaneously. Truly a stark contrast to both the physical and emotional state of my master. “Ahhh… Hachirou. Have you come to make a delivery?” He asks, and I recall from what few times I’ve met with him beforehand, in addition to the many stories my master has told, that he could be rather forgetful. Normally, my master would say, it was a fatal “disease” to be so forgetful in the smithing world. But, due mostly to his supporting sons who assisted him in the orders, and also in part due to sheer luck, he was able to get by with little trouble.

“No, sir. I’m here to pick up something. I.. don’t know what. My master wouldn’t tell me. But I have the coins right here!” I mention, lightly jogging forward and placing the light sack of shinny on the table in front of him. Perhaps that sparks his memory, as a look of insight dons upon him soon after.

“Ahh, yes yes, yes yes. I do recall now… yes, yes. The ‘item’ he told me he would send you to pick up. But, he said he would send you tomorrow.. has something happened?”

“N-no, sir. At least I don’t think it has! We’re never very busy around this time, and today was especially slow, so I guess he sent me now because of that. Maybe it gave him time to finish whatever it was he’s been working on. I’m betting this item is for that?” He grins with a mischievous face that says, ‘Oh, you’d like to know?’ like a parent will give an anxious child awaiting a present. Without saying anything, he simply disappears behind the curtain into the backroom forge. Voices, those of mister Ayamoto and his sons echo through the back, as light clanging of tempered steel is heard from far away. Ahh, that’s right! Their forge is rather large, since they mostly deal with mass production of single quantity items. Maybe that’s why, when he comes back with a single box, no bigger than the size of my forearm, I am so surprised. Why would the man who specifically takes on bulk orders have any business with something like that?

Mister Ayamoto places it on the table and pushes it in my direction before gripping the pouch loosely by its tying thread and plopping it on the inside of his pocket. Turning away, he departs back into the forge without so much as a farewell, but I do catch sight of a silly little smile. It was as if he was in on some joke of sorts. “W-Wait, aren’t you going to count it?” I call out, just as he disappears. His voice answers with a quick “I trust you, Hachirou… huhuhu..”, leaving me to wonder just what was going on. Was I supposed to wait? Did he leave to get something else, then?

I decide to wait a moment, as just a short loss of time on my part was enough to make sure I wasn’t being rude and leaving before his business with me had finished. Nearly ten minutes later, however, a small child comes from the back, baby-like face covered in soot. A small child like that, working in the smith… is that the life of a blacksmith family? “What are you still doing here? Father said you left already! He said you had something important to take care of!” Important? Well, I suppose a delivery IS important business, but was this something so valuable?... Ah! It must be! With Ayamoto’s reaction, it was as if that silly grin was a goodbye in itself! Like he was just trying to avoid giving up some big secret, so he excluded himself from my presence to prevent that! So, then, it really was important? And I wasted ten minutes here like a fool?! I could’ve been back already, and my master might have finished what he needed to! What, with how late it was already and how little sleep he naturally gets, I may be wasting what small bits he does manage to get by dawdling here! Having this dawn on me, I ‘squeal’ in dismay and run out of the storefront without even bidding farewell to the youngest son. My feet, perhaps moving faster than they ever had before, carry me again through the dusty, dirty roads throughout Caotang. My adrenaline brings a cease to my fatigue just as the darkness brings cease to light, and vice versa. Although now, at this moment, it was clearly night that was dominant in these skies.

Darting into the shop, I nearly fall on top of the counter. My master, unfazed, simply turns around and takes the box from beneath my arm. Opening it, his expert eyes scan the contents, seemingly content. Then, he turns his back to me once more, and, just like Ayamoto, disappears into the backroom. I almost call out after him, but I hear his voice, rich with a deep commanding vibrato. “Hachirou. I need you to stay late tonight. Do you think you can do that for me?” That was an odd question, honestly. I always stayed until he dismissed me, though it was also usually a little earlier than this night currently was. “Y-Yes master!” Was all I could manage, before collapsing on the ground out of fatigue, my adrenaline clearing out of my system seemingly all at once.
~
~
~
Time passed. As always, it’s expected. Natural. But on this night, it felt awkward. I was waiting. My master had turned away the one customer who had entered, which was especially odd due to how slow it was. In general he never did that ever, if I recalled correctly. I was anxious. What was in that box? What was master planning? Originally I pondered on the idea that he was simply expecting more business so he would need me to make a quick delivery. But with the dismissal of the customer came the dismissal of that thought. It had been a half hour; no, a full hour now, that he had been in the back. Occasionally I would hear a hammering, then a scratching; a blade on the turning stone. But nothing like normal. The past five minutes, there had been silence. A very distinct sound, coming from my master. I knew it was the sound of his inspection; the sound made by his eyes dancing everywhere. Another five minutes. Then ten more. Soon, it had been a half hour since the hour mark. My master was one who heavily inspected his work, but even this, I guessed, was overkill. It was not until I heard some more faint scratching of a blade on stone, and another hammer or two, as well as one last half hour’s pause, that the time had come. His large figure appeared from the back. It had been two hours, now, that I had stayed since he asked me to. I had nearly fallen asleep in my position on the floor.

“Hachirou.” He called, and I stirred. “Here.” A clang. Steel, being dropped? I looked up. My master stood above me. Something, indistinct as it was, lay on the counter above me. Standing, my gaze sat upon it. A blade. Not just a normal one. This one was… a true blade. It was a weapon. A longsword. Odd… my master rarely dealt with actual full on weaponry, let alone act so serious over just one. I straighten my back and clumsily return it to the sheath that lay to its side, rubbing the sleep from my eye as I do so. “Yes, master. Where would you like me to take this to?”

“Your home.”

“…” I pause. “…’Eh?” Again, I pause. “…Did my father-“
“It’s for you.” He says curtly. “From me.” The words come out, and I clearly hear them, but yet… I don’t hear them. I can’t hear them at all. They were so obvious, so well spoken as always, but they fail to register.

“This blade is… for me? From… you, master?” I remove it from its sheath, just a few short moments (which bordered on lasting for an eternity) after placing it inside. My eyes scan it over. The blade, material, everything, it was all fine. Great steel, tempered with care, as always. “It’s not much,” comes his voice. “I do not specialize in serious weaponry, as you know. But it should work for you to be able to defend yourself with. In case you run into any trouble again.” My heart, hearing this words, warms to rival that of the sun. Dare I say, if I were to step outside, the chickens would crow and livestock would stir; plants would lean to me and man and woman alike would believe the night had been short and day had come once again. But no; that was not the sun, just the burning warmth of my heart. And it spread. All the way up. Up into my face… but even that heat could not create steam, as the salty tears which escaped my eyes fell down one cheek, and then the other. I felt like throwing myself. As if, from a catapult. Yes, throw myself from a catapult onto my master. I wanted so much to somehow express how I felt. Honestly, I felt nearly volatile from happiness; as if an explosion was to be expected if I could not find some release.

But I held. I knew my master. He would not take kindly to that. Sucking it up, sniffing my nose like a man would, and wiping away the tears, I gripped the leathery strap that latched itself onto the sheet until it imprinted on my hands. And then finally, a single step. Just one, as I brought myself outside. There was that step, and then, when the door closed, a turn. I couldn’t face my master now. I was… too happy. But I still needed to show my appreciation. At least a little. “T-Thank you~! MmMmMaster! Thank you.. so much!” I bawled, turning tail and running so as to avoid further embarrassment. I could hear his voice calling me after. “Keep it down! You’ll wake everyone!” And then a beat. “Don’t stay up late, playing around! You still have to come back here tomorrow! Same time! You don’t get any extra time off!”

I know, master. You don’t have to say. I understand how you run things. At least, a little bit. I understand that this is what you had been working on. So tirelessly. So restlessly. That you had me pick something up for this, and that you truly did worry about me. I understand that even now, you worry about me. That you want me to stay healthy, and to get the rest my body so needs. And it’s true. I’m so very, very tired…

But master? I probably won’t be able to sleep at all tonight.
Not at all.

WC: 3300/7202

Subject: Re: [Hachirou] As Things Go Tue Jul 20, 2010 11:52 pm

Haruto Hachirou – The Twentieth Year – Current Time

Burning. Blazing. Igneous. Blistering. Boiling. An inferno. Hell itself. Broiling. Igneous. Cursed by the wrath of the God of the Sun.
Suffice to say, it was… hot.
Beneath the blue sky, dotted with puffed white clouds, children played and laughed. Happiness wove itself through the air as their merry songs of joy raise the spirits of all those who passed by. Even my ears, sheltered from the outside world by the forgery, could pick up faint trails of it. My mind seemed almost hungered by it. As if… as if I was addicted to it, and clawing at what little bits and pieces I could find. The outside world, so nice and serene, so cool and comfortable, was an undeniably dark, stark contrast to the world that existed in the back room of the smithy. The coals, burning with their fierce might as if I had spurned them. It was almost convincing that my ancestors had perhaps kicked their ancestors off some cobblestone road. Now of course coals didn’t have ancestors, but… I’d almost believe it at this point! I couldn’t think of this as anything besides divine retribution. Had I done something so terrible?

“Masterrr…” My voice wavered with fatigue. Ears, aching from the reverb, yet taking solace in the fact that, with the forge active, all the windows and doors were open to avoid all the gases being released from clustering inside and eating up all the oxygen. Night time, however, when all fires were to be put out, I would need to practice without those luxuries. Of course, without the fires, it wasn’t very heated, but at night, when the sun is also gone and the cold of night creeps into the village, that heat was much more welcome. “..How much longer… must I practice? Don’t you.. have any work for me?” My question, dragged out to show me lacking sufficient energy, and comfort, for that matter, went answered by the usual prolonged silence my master was so fond of. That essentially was summed up to: ‘Until I Say So’, and ‘No, I don’t’, respectively. A short whine coming from my both my arms and my stomach, I would forfeit trying to get out of my practice, and grit my teeth yet again.

My hands, tightening once more on the grip of the blade, would spread out an equal distance from each other, the butt of the weapon and the hilt. A short yell, something I always thought unbecoming of someone like me, was all that would warn the scrap metal can hanging from a thick rope and placed around one of the support poles of the forge. The metal was supposed to simulate a real armor, but I knew my master had made it so thick that no normal human would be able to wear something like that and still be efficient in combat. However, that was good, as if I broke through and cut the wood on the other side, this side of the building would likely collapse in on itself, and bring about a halt to my master’s work. Oh, and it would probably kill me too.

The nasty reverb would once again assault my ears as the sword my master had given me over a year ago would clash against the metal chestplate. The dented piece of metal flailed around the pole, bound to its fate by the rather thick rope. Using the recoil of my slash, I would release a hand and swing back around my head and bring it down on the other side. In my head, I pictured how each attack would go on another person. The first one, an attack to the ribs, would be pushed aside by the shield, and the second one, a shot aimed for the upper left shoulder, would be undoubtedly parried. Cheeee! Too slow!

Taking a step back, I’d put some distance between me after each failed attack. My master never really taught me how to attack a person; only how to defend myself. I needed to find the rest out on my own. But, I couldn’t get mad at him. Teaching someone to kill was wrong, and he had made it very clear the next day after originally giving this blade to me that it was with the intention of being able to defend and not attack. Also, it wasn’t like he was a swordsman in his youth: he had some knowledge since he had joined the local militia, but not much else. Oh well, that didn’t matter. I enjoyed teaching myself anyway.

With the step back, I would release one hand from the blade, as I had more agility when using a single hand, but less follow through power. Yet, if I couldn’t even hit him once, follow through power meant nothing. I would try to get a small hit somewhere first, and then use two hands to press my advantage. Hit after hit, slash and stab after slash and stab, the image in my head would never be one of me getting a hit in. Was my imagination that good? Or, did I actually think I sucked that badly? Neither was important. All that mattered was that I needed to work just a little bit harder. This one-armed sword fighting was so tiring, yet I would need to master it for when I picked up a shield for myself. Master always said he’d make me one one day, when he had the right materials and the time, but I didn’t mind waiting. He was my master, and he had given me this. Asking for any more would be greedy.

Unfortunately, a shield would have come in handy right now in my imaginary fight, as yet again an attack at the body armor’s rib section caused my attack to ricochet off drastically, yet with only one arm on the blade this time, I could not properly control it and ended up falling on my rear end. A pitiful whelp would alert my master, if not the knocking over of his bag of coals and stripped metals. It was quiet, and the sound of his hammering stopped, yet no voice. I would not move from my position, as I fully expected him to come into the back and scold me for my incompetence. Yet, no move was made. Finally his voice rang out, “Are you alright?”
“Y-Yes, master. I’m fine. Sorry, I’ll clean it up!”
“Don’t. Focus on your practice. Only five more minutes and I’ll have work for you to do. Besides, they’re just rocks,” he says, obviously not knowing of the scrap metal which fell as well, though as the floor was dirt, it didn’t make much a sound. “They come from the ground anyway, so some dirt will do no more harm.”
“Yes, master. Sorry.” I apologize again. Perhaps he was right. Did I really lack confidence in myself? Well, maybe, but believing in yourself is difficult when you’re losing to a combination of two inanimate objects, and your imagination…

WC: 1177/8379

Subject: Re: [Hachirou] As Things Go Wed Jul 21, 2010 11:16 pm

Standing, I brush off my previous failures and once more harden the grip on the blade. Even if my self-esteem was low, that didn’t mean I had no ability. It just meant that I needed to show myself what I was capable of. Instead of feeling sorry about my inability, I’d throw myself at the practice dummy again and again until my failures would transform into success. There was no prize in an effortless victory, or at least, that was what my master had told me. And with only a few more minutes left for training today, I would have to work fast to get any real prize from today’s work out.

Jumping forward, I perform a 12-6 slash towards his head. My master had told me that going for the head would usually instinctively strike fear into the opponent, but I also needed to be careful since an attack like this would put me wide open to a counter attack, both before I struck and after. Yet he had also mentioned that if all of your other techniques aren’t working, then attempting something nearly suicidal may end up as your only remaining choice. Following through, after the strike, I would once more act as if my attack had no effect and would raise the blade from its position pointing down towards the ground to one perpendicular from my body, so that my arms were essentially pointing straight. As I raised them, I would step forward and go for a stab to the neck. The steel made another loud clanging sound, and the reverberations once again brought pain to my ear, yet depressingly I didn’t even need to imagine how that attack would turn out to know it was a failure. Since it clashed with the steel and not the wood just above, I knew it would glance off his armor and fail to hit the exposed portion of the neck between the chest and helm. My body heaved, rising once with my breath, before expelling the stale air and dropping my arms to the side, letting go of the blade as I did so. The light thump of it on the ground signaled my giving up, at least for the day. It was depressing… a whole year, and yet… I’d still not gotten good enough to even consider myself a swordsman. Master said my basics were exceptional for a beginner, but… I didn’t want to be a beginner! I wanted to be a master myself!

With knowledge of the uncharacteristic almost-scowl on my face, picked up my blade after a moment’s respite and entered the front of the store, where master was conversing with what appeared to be a young farmhand. Upon exiting, he made note of my good timing, as this man was the person who had need of my services. I tried to fake what smile I could, but both depression and overbearing fatigue made it difficult. Master, pulling one of the leathery bags usually saved for larger purchases out from underneath the counter, retrieved several handfuls of shinny which had been laid across the counter. I could only assume it had been done by the young man, though I was interested in knowing what the purpose was. “Hachirou.” Came the master, hopefully to explain what was going on. “This man’s placed a rather large order. So large, I cannot have you handle the delivery. I’ll need to use one of the courier men when they return in a week.” He was speaking of one of his other few employees. I hadn’t seen too much of them as mostly they worked out of the town, delivering his goods to other small groups of people or even to one of the larger cities, but I knew what that meant: it was an order large enough to warrant using a full cart; clearly out of my league. But, after all, I was just there for small deliveries, and the other three men were for this large scale stuff. “But I don’t have the necessary material on me right now to get started. Take this pouch down to Ayamoto, and give him both the shinny and the note inside. It’s a good 1,100shinny in there, so be careful of it, alright? The note will explain everything, but it doesn’t concern you. Just know that you’ll probably need to take three trips to deliver it all, alright?”
“Yes, master. I’ll do you proud.”
“Good; I apologize for giving you a task like this, yet you’re the only one here right now, and I have to continue working on the Sakarabi order.”
“I understand, master.” Though I was unnecessarily curt, and to this my master raised an eyebrow, he paid it no serious mind, instead opting to allow me to sort out my problems on my own. It was just a frustration, after all, so it wasn’t anything he needed to be too worried about. Taking the large, rather heavy pouch in one hand, and placing the sword back into the sheath that rest over my shoulders with the other, I would make as much haste as my worn-out little legs could manage towards the Ayamoto smithy.

WC: 865/9244

Subject: Re: [Hachirou] As Things Go Thu Jul 22, 2010 4:27 am

Speeding (relatively) down the roads bursting with all forms of life and activity beneath the sun’s warmth, I carried the burden of temporary wealth for the sake of my master’s business. It slightly irked me that I was rarely if ever clued in on as to what purchases I was exactly making. There would always be the little nugget of worry in the back of my simplistic mind that I was involved in something bigger than just delivering blacksmithing goods. Thoughts of my master paying more than the normal amount, which would eventually add up to the amount needed to purchase something illegal, or pay for some dark deeds taking place behind the scenes to take care of his competition. Perhaps that was the true reason why couriers were being sent to other cities and places. Maybe they were… assassin?! No, no. The idea alone made me cringe, but I knew how crazy it was. My master was a kind and gentle person at his heart, and while I had no doubt he didn’t have a qualm with resorting to force when the situation demanded it, he wasn’t the type to go out and instigate anything or do anything that would bring about violence unnecessarily.

In front of the Ayamoto smithy, the lanky image of the family head stood as if waiting for me. Enjoying the day, more likely than anything. With a smile that masked my previous disappointment in myself and my current lack of energy, I walked up and greeted him. “Hello, sir.”
“Ahh, Hachirou. Good afternoon. Uh… did your master order something from me? Did I forget… again?”
“No, sir. I’m actually here to place an order; not just pick one up.”
“Oh, oh. I see. But, child, do tell me something. What’s t he matter?” An odd question. Was there something wrong with me? Did I do something to provoke such a response?
“I’m not entirely sure what you mean, sir..”
“Your eyes, child; I can see it in your eyes. Something’s troubling you.” Hearing this, I nearly step back defensively. Was he referring to my self-pity? My failures? Did he have spies in my master’s forge? I didn’t know blacksmithing was that competitive.
“Ah, no, nothing is…” I start, but when I see the gaze in the normally semi-loopy old man’s eyes, I realized they mirrored those of my master in the heat of his work. It was the heart-filled, completely dedicated look of someone who truly knew what he was doing. I feel how pointless it would be to try and keep anything from him, so with a frown, I look to the ground in shame. A brief moment of time passes as I wrestle with the words to properly convey how I feel. It wasn’t like I was totally depressed about it or anything, but the feelings were certainly there. And yet, he never speaks during my momentary pause. He doesn’t push or shove and try to drag my feelings out aggressively. “…Well, it’s just… my swordsmanship training isn’t doing so well. I want to impress my master, and become someone who he does not have to worry about, but… I don’t feel like I can.”
“So you’re saying, it’s like the feeling you get when you recall your family.” The words that come from his mouth pierce with an ungodly sharpness. How did he know about that?! Had my master told him?! Even for someone with depth of heart and soul, that was just too much! Could he read my mind? If he could, he should know how rude saying something like that really was.
“You’ve no right to talk about that!”

…A yell. It was something I nearly never did. Raising my voice to my master was out of the question. Raising my voice to my family was suicide. And raising my voice to strangers was so impertinent I could never bring myself to. It wasn’t as if I was unaware of how sensitive I could be about this issue, but I never imagined I would raise my voice in such a way. After doing so, my eyes immediately shot to the ground, but I didn’t apologize. My tongue was held, but my teeth bit sharply on my lower lip. However once again, there were no words from the man in front of me. Silence. I peeked up to see if he had been in shock, but the gentle expression on his face remained, almost coaxing me entirely out of my aggression. “Hachirou,” he began with another small smile and a sigh. “Your master explained to me your worries. He told me how you feel pressured to live up to them. Let me tell you this, because he never will: that man is indebted to your grandfather. His invention as both a fisherman and a blacksmith was what allowed your master to become a smith of his own, and become a success. Your grandfather gave that man his forge: the very same one you both work in today. And, because your grandfather taught him exclusively how to forge that hook and lure with the right materials, and the right process, he was able to sell them and make the profit he needed to delve deeper into the art and get his name out there. Believe it or not, your master was not always as successful or skillful as he is now. He was actually somewhat like you: little direction, few specialties,” while those words would normally hurt a normal person, I was in agreement with them. Additionally, I was somewhat in shock upon hearing that my master was once even remotely similar to me. “But he had potential. And so do you. The difference was, he had someone to help him refine it, and he had belief in himself. Your master is frustrated that you have neither, and he can’t give either of them to you. ‘What potential Hachirou has in swordsmanship’, he says, ‘is obvious, but I cannot teach him. While his grandfather was able to mentor me, all I can do is give him a job for little pay. While I accept that I can do nothing about his self esteem, I’m angered that I cannot be more proactive in helping him learn the way of the sword.’ That was what he told me. Your master will never be disappointed in you, Hachirou; only in himself.” The words the elderly man has spoken to me were moth warming and harming .That my master thought of me in such a way… it warmed my heart until tears threatened to leak from my eyes. But the idea of me making my master angry or disappointed in himself only made me more upset with myself.

“You’re thinking that it isn’t any different right now, aren’t you, Hachirou? That it’s actually worse if he’s upset with himself than if he’s upset with you, as he’s done nothing wrong. Am I right?” S-seriously, this was getting creepy now.. “Well then, the answer is simple. Show him something that he has no reason to be ashamed of. Your master had always told me that he wanted you to be like your family that came before you and achieve great things, but he specifically mentioned that he hoped the great thing you would be known for was your long and successful life. He wants you to live for a long time and to experience much prosperity, so if you were to show him something like that, I don’t think he would have a single thing in the world to be disappointed about.”

The old man’s words once more sting, but… it was different. It was not anger at him, but anger at oneself. Tears rolled like a steady rain giving life to the crops that grow all throughout this town as I realize how stupid I had been. It was obvious that, even when I wasn’t there, my master was worrying over me. He didn’t care what I did; he just wanted me to be successful and happy. It was the same thing my father had told me in the past. Yet, I had forgotten? Something so important had so simply slipped my mind? It made me almost furious. Or, at least, I expected this feeling was one of fury. I do not think I had experienced it before now.

My hand raised to my eyes, and soft sobs were emitted from the behind the heavy rags as I struggled to regain control of myself. After a moment’s time, I would lower my arm and give off a smile to the old man, despite knowing how silly I would look with my eyes so wet. “Yes! Thank you, sir! I’ll gladly… I’ll gladly and certainly become that kind of person for my master!”
“Yes, that’s a good idea. I’m sure you will. But, for now, let’s start with that order of his, shall we?” He says, beckoning me to join him in his shop, and I agree. Walking in behind him, my back is warmed by the sun which has seen happiness and sorrow, success and failure, love, and heartbreak. The warmth on my back, newfound knowledge in my soul, and happiness on my back would all come together and deliver a driving force, which… in the interest of my master’s wellbeing… would be used for perfecting my skills.
Just you wait, master. I’ll definitely make you proud.
Just like I promised you years ago.

WC: 1579/10823

Subject: Re: [Hachirou] As Things Go Mon Jul 26, 2010 2:11 pm

Updated

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