Samurai Guru

Chapter 1

Being a Samurai is an esteemed honor which has allowed those fortunate enough to obtain the title to be placed in the forefront of society for generations.

The life of a Samurai is battle-driven, and noble to some, while others consider them to be heathen progeny spawned from the battlecry.

However you choose to view Samurai, one thing can be confirmed. The way of the Samurai is the way of the world.

Walking through the dusty pathway with nothing but a large terrain of mountains surrounding him, a wavy, brown haired boy with a large travelers backpack trekked for many miles. In one hand he held a bottled water, and in his other hand he clutched the strap of of colossal bag. Sweat raced down the edges of his oval-ish face.

He had been traveling alone for quite some time now. He set off to embark on his marvelous journey  many months ago.

His destination was the Capitol of the Eastern most part of the continent, a place called Torazu Village. Growing up he heard rumors that Torazu is the home to some of the most famous Samurai in the world. For years he fantasized about going off and visiting Torazu Village, until he reached the age of thirteen and was actually allowed to do so on his own.

"I'm finally here."

He arrived around early noon. The yellow sun was sitting comfortably up above, with a clear blue sky in its' wake.

Meanwhile, within the village, a flurry of excitement filled the streets.

Today was a date that many of the inhabitants had been waiting on for weeks, especially among the younger-aged.

Today was Acceptance Day – a day that only came around once every six months, a day in which all of the young Samurai-in-training who took and passed their exams to be promoted to the skill-level of Page (which, mind you, is the lowest of the four skill levels for a Samurai).

With many of the new Pages running around the village; today marked the first day of the rest of their lives.

It was poetic, almost.

Most of these pubescent, young preteens had only been a Samurai for about ten minutes yet they had already managed to run off in order to go apply for guilds and missions.

The Administration office was packed.

Voicing the disinterest he had for the clerk who refused to give him a mission, Nugiita, one of the newly promoted Page-level Samurai stood in protest.

"I was the first one here!" he yelled furiously, with balled fists. "How is everyone here, except me, getting approved for mission and guild request!?"

"Nugiita-kun, maybe if you considered reevaluating the requests you applied for, they would have been approved already."

"What?! No! I was the strongest student of my class, I don't want to go on any dinky low-ranked missions–I deserve at least a B-level one!"

The clerk's face blushed with annoyance.

"Considering your current level, you will not be approved for such high level missions until your skill-meter reaches Knight-class or higher."

Nugiita sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah...yeah...whatever."

Turning his back on the clerk, Nugiita  walked out of the building with his hands resting at the back of his head.

"Man. That isn't fair. How are they going to make me start out these stupid low-level missions."

"You have to prove yourself by completing easier missions before you get harder ones, that's how you grow stronger." a voice chimed in seemingly out of nowhere.

"What?!" barked Nugiita, taking a firm stance as he traced the area with his eyes. Coming up from the pathway ahead of him was Kenta, a brown haired lad with a rather large bag on his back.

"Who are you...?"

"Me? I'm Kenta," he responded with a smile. "I'm just got to Torazu today. Nice to meet'cha."

It was pretty obvious that Nugiita didn't like this kid already. His first impression was a bad one. Something about this Kenta kid rubbed him the wrong way; maybe it was his personality, or perhaps, his voice. Whichever, Nugiita had grown annoyed.

"What do you know about how they issue missions? You're not even from here."

"I'm a Samurai too," he said with a nod.

Nugiita released a loud laugh.

"What ever village you come from must be weak then, 'cause you don't look like a Samurai to me."

Kenta stood there silently gazing upon the black and white haired boy who had just laughed at him. Having just arrived to the village he was excited to meet see the landscape and citizens that he saw this far. Even though Nugiita was being rather brash and disrespectful, Kenta retained his calm demeanor.

"I'm a lot stronger than I look."

As he spoke he reeled his arm back and slipped it through the loop of his backpack, allowing it to fall off of his shoulder on to the ground.

Stretching his arm backward, he unzipped his bag. Protruding from his now opened backpack was the hilt of sword.

"I could show you, if you'd like."