The wind blew gently outside of the shoin-zukuri as the great samurai warrior, Kambei, slept peacefully. However, his sleep was soon disturbed by a loud crash within his home. Even though he had aged many years he could still draw his katana faster than the others. The crashing sound hadn’t even finished resonating before Kambei was on his feet with his sword drawn. He drew open the door, his katana ready, and peered into the vast space which lay before him. His eyes were already adjusted to the darkness around him. Nothing in the immediate vicinity seemed broken, but he could never be too sure.
He grabbed his lantern off of the floor and lit a fire inside of it. He held the lantern forward for a better look into the abyss outside of his bedroom. Not a single item appeared broken, but this was all he could see. Kambei stepped out of his room, katana still heavy in his hand, and began to search his home for signs of an intruder. He doubted it was an assassin, not even the worst ninja made that much racket, for the fool would have been killed ages ago. However, Kambei was sure there was a sinister force lurking inside of his quiet shoin-zukuri. A heavy breathing could be heard inside of his ear, Kambei turned to find no one behind him be the chill of the air made him feel uneasy.
The lantern swung back and forth as Kambei moseyed about his home, only to find nothing broken. He turned to return to his room only to see a shadow move quickly against the far window. An assassin! He knew it. The assassin was outside, not inside, and the light of the moon gave away his position. Kambei opened the door and charged out into the night with his sword raised high in attack. However, what he found was not a ninja.
He stopped dead in his tracks to view the drunken woman stumbling around his home. He had never seen her in the town before but he could hear her softly weeping as she stumbled about. Perhaps she was lost or injured. The bandits would often take advantage of a woman they would find out at such a late hour. Perhaps she had escaped them. Kambei reached out his hand and touched the woman’s shoulder. She stopped walking but a light whimper could still be heard emanating from her. She slowly turned around to face Kambei.
He couldn’t believe his eyes. The battlefield was home of many horrors but nothing as gruesome as this woman’s face. A cold wind extinguished the light from the lantern. Kambei dropped the lantern upon the ground and began to stumble backwards. He tripped over something, what it was remained unknown due to the darkness and the shock revealed by this woman’s face. Her skin was pale and seemed illuminated in the full moon light. Her eyes were missing and only black pits remained.
Blood dripped down from the eye sockets and the whimper could still be heard from her swollen lips. “My daughter,” she mumbled. “Have you seen my daughter?” Kambei cared not for this woman’s daughter; he only wanted to be away from her. Without thinking, he gripped his katana firmly and swung it. A bloody mist covered the samurai’s face and the side of his shoin-zukuri. He looked upon the ground to see the woman’s body and head upon the ground.
He sighed as he looked at the bloody mess. He knew if the shogun discovered his crime, that he would be imprisoned, it mattered not his rank or his achievements. Kambei knew he needed to hide this body. He relit his lantern and searched for his shovel. He found it lying on the ground near his crops. He began to dig a hole in the small field for the woman’s body. He laid her body within the hole and covered it.
He returned to his bed, snuffed his lantern, removed his sword, and lied down, trying to put the woman out of his mind. However, any rest this evening seemed like a lost hope for he heard a loud noise within his house. Kambei lied quietly in his bed but could hear something rummaging about his home. He gripped his katana, relit his lantern, and rose from his bed. The door opened but all the sounds from within his shoin-zukuri seemed to have vanished. He began to search his house for a possible intruder but found nothing. He turned to return to bed only to see a pale face with black eyes staring back at him.
“Have you seen my daughter?” The woman asked as she stumbled towards Kembai, a ghostly white hand reaching out to him. The woman had no signs of the injury Kembai had bestowed upon her earlier; she seemed the same as when he originally encountered her. Kembai pushed his way past the woman and returned to his room. He closed the door behind him and gripped his katana tighter. The heavy breathing could be heard within his ears again. A shadow could be seen stumbling past his door, the woman’s whimpering louder than ever.
“My daughter,” she wept as she passed his door. No, she didn’t pass the door; she had stopped dead in her tracks. He could see her head turning and looking at the door. The door slid open to reveal the eyeless woman pointing her ghastly hand at him. “Where have you hidden my daughter?” The woman said accusingly.
“I know not of your daughter!” Kembai screamed out to the woman. She lowered her finger and turned her head. She opened the door leading out into the night and departed Kembai’s shoin-zukuri. Kembai sighed as he heard the woman wandering away. He returned to his bed and closed his eyes. However, he could still hear the breathing.
He opened his eyes and saw a small girl with the same pale skin on his ceiling. She giggled and put a finger to her mouth. “Shhhhh!” she whispered before giggling again. She smiled down at Kembai who simply sighed before closing his eyes.
