Before the Battle

Family Name 2/17

The night ride proved to be a real challenge.

Some sections, especially on the outskirts of the city, were so damaged by the fighting that it was impossible to drive through them, and thanks to the icy roads I was forced to pull off the road several times and luckily I didn't end up crashing.

It was not only the weather, the darkness and the bad roads that were to blame, but also my mental state and lack of concentration. Instead of giving my full attention to the demanding ride, I played out all possible scenarios in my head from worse to the worst and forced myself to rush all the more.

However, in less than an hour I could see the outline of a large structure surrounded by a high stone wall in the spotlight. And parked in front of the building, to my incredible relief, was a grey sedan covered in white layer of snow. It was in the same place as it had been that afternoon, which reassured me that its owner hadn't moved either.

I parked next to it and got out.

The freezing air hit me in the face. Compared to the heated car, it was quite a shock and I shivered with cold, goosebumps crawling up my body.

The slowly rising icy wind indicated that it would soon start to snow. For now, however, only a few stray flakes flew around, an innocent harbinger of the coming blizzard.

I zipped up my jacket and headed for the main gate at a brisk pace. This was the entrance to the vast courtyard, which at that moment was covered with a glittering layer of freshly fallen snow instead of sand and small stones.

In the dim orange-red light of the only two working lamps, I immediately saw a moving figure among the flying flakes.

Shira, katana in hand, was practicing a series of intricate attacks.

I had seen him fight, of course, and knew of the lethal perfection with which he wielded his favourite weapon. But rarely did I have the opportunity to truly appreciate his mastery.

But seeing him now - the deft and swift movements of his arms, the precise and sure steps, the flashing blade of the katana - all I could do was stand in silence and watch in amazement.

His face wore a look of concentration, and white flakes clung to his raven hair, which was now pulled tightly to the top of his head to keep it out of the way. He paced lightly, never once faltering, moving from side to side, right to left, as the steel blade sliced through the freezing air in perfectly guided strokes.

I couldn't take my eyes off him. He was stunning.

I had imagined Maya rolling her eyes and telling me I was a hopeless case. I guess I was. I was lost. From the very first moment that I laid eyes on him.

Slowly the snow was getting heavier, leaving Shira's footprints on the white blanket. I realised he was barefoot. How could he not be cold? And he wasn't wearing much, just his plain trousers and a loose shirt.

Maybe he was able to keep warm enough by exercising. But also I knew he'd grown up in a small mountain village on the North Island where his parents had taken refuge from their pursuers, and that was probably why he'd gotten used to the cold.

The whole scene was like a vision from a dream. The dark night, the falling flakes, the deserted courtyard covered in glittering snow, and amidst it all he looked like a hero from some old legend.

One I used to read to my sister in the evenings. Tamiko loved them, all those stories of undefeated warriors, of adventure and love to the death.

I realized bitterly that after all these years, I might not even recognize my sister. The last time I saw her, she was a little girl, barely twelve years old. She must be a grown woman now.