Flashing #6: Jidaigeki

I spent the weekend crafting an outline for this story. It started as a one-day attempt at jidaigeki but I ended up turning it into a five-part story that’ll focus on five different samurai or samurai analogues and how the West has shaped their lives. Each individual story will follow the model established on Flashing Day 1 – a story of denial and eventual acceptance (with a nap somewhere in between) – but there will be an overarching narrative running throughout the week. Tuesday’s story will be steampunk, Wednesday’s will be clockpunk, Thursday’s will be cyberpunk, and Friday’s will be biopunk. 

I enjoyed putting together this week’s stories and I wish I had more time to develop them. However, quick stories for a year is what Flashing is about, so I write and I post…for now. This will probably turn into the first side project to fall out of the Flashing experiment, however. I would love to do a full story that builds on what I’m posting this week.

If you want more Flashing stories, you can check out the main page.

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1622: Repentance (992 words)

Hasekura Tsunenaga slows his horse, causing Nakajima Sekiktan to lean back and pull the reigns tight against his chest. Sekiktan ’s horse does not make a sound; it stands motionless, waiting for the slightest kick or twitch from its master. Tsunenaga  moves towards a run-down hut on the outskirts of the village, his posture betraying his purpose. Sekiktan  says nothing, and remains behind until he is called.

“Luis Sotelo!” Tsunenaga  tries to inflect a sense of authority but his voice is weak, his words are forced. “I am Hasekura Tsunenaga, retainer of Date Mesamune, the daimyo of Sendai han and loyal servant of Tokugawa Hidetada. I order you to come out unarmed so you may be escorted to Sendai where you will await sentencing.”

Tsunenaga ’s voice carries over the hills, reflects off of trees and rocks, and returns to his ears unescorted by Sotelo’s reply. The hut remains silent. Time passes. Sekiktan  puts his hand on his katana. 

“Luis Sotelo! I am…”

Father Luis Sotelo emerges from his hut. He gives Tsunenaga  a knowing smile and sign of peace. “Tsunenaga , old friend. I meant to send for you when I first landed in Japan. I hope you are well.”

Tsunenaga  sits atop his horse like a statue. He says no words. He offers no acknowledgment. He leaves his katana in its sheath. 

“And who’s your friend? A convert, too, I hope.” Sekiktan  now approaches the hut, his katana drawn. He is thirty years the junior of both these men and under normal circumstances his actions would be punishable. His involvement, however, is necessary.

“I am Nakajima Sekiktan. Retainer to Date Mesamune, the daimyo of Sandai han. I have come to aid Hasekura Tsunenaga in escorting you back to Sandai. I know you and Tsunenaga  have a history, but Tsunenaga  has rid himself of your influence and has become right in the eyes of Date Mesamune and Tokugawa Hidetada. I was warned that you have the tongue to lure him back, but I will cut it out if you even attempt to use it.”

Sotelo looks to Sekiktan  and back to Tsunenaga . He manages another smile, throws his hands up, and tries to lock eyes with his old friend. “Ok. I will come with you.” Tsunenaga  stares at the horizon with a peace reserved for monks and babies.
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Sekiktan  closes the gate and locks the cell. Sotelo has not said a word since leaving his village. He now stands facing the wall. His body is rigid. His breathing is sublime. He looks like a corpse, propped up and facing the cold, gray walls of the palace prison. Sekiktan  walks down the hall and sees Tsunenaga , deep in his past.

Sekiktan  puts his hand on Tsunenaga ’s shoulder. “Tell me about Sotelo.” 

Tsunenaga  tugs on his whiskers and stares at Sekiktan ’s feet. “Sotelo was a Franciscan Friar that was to be put to death in the Tokugawa shogunate. He sought sanctuary in Sandai and received it. Date Mesamune sent me, Sotelo, and a delegation to Rome nine years ago in an attempt to open trade with the Christians. On the surface it looked like a peace mission, we were to showRome that Sandai was tolerant of Christians, unlike the Tokugawa. I was also to bring back Western technology and allies to aid Date Mesamune in defeating rival shogunates.”

“I know this part, Tsunenaga . Tell me about what Sotelo did to you.”

“I’m still not entirely sure what Sotelo did. For the whole trip he spoke of Christ, the son of his god, and daimyo of his religion, you could say. I don’t remember much of those conversations. His words were dizzyingly poisonous. Two weeks into the journey he poured water on my head. By the time I reached Rome I was able to recite their Lord’s Prayer and prayed with their Pope. By the time we returned, Tokugawa Hidetada had begun cleansing our land of Christians. I was still under Sotelo’s influence, at the time. Date Mesamune was able to set my mind right, in order to stop Tokugawa Hidetada’s agents from killing me and my family. Sotelo didn’t return to Japanimmediately, knowing only death awaited him here. However, it is impossible to keep a demon away from the pure, and Sotelo was eventually drawn back.”

Sekiktan  considers everything he’s just heard. “And here we are.”

Tsunenaga  doesn’t look up. “Here we are.”
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Sekiktan  dreams of the West. Of stories he has heard from Tsunenaga . Stories of wine and wicked women and murderous holy men. The night wakes him, and he makes his way back to the prison, following the quiet. 

As he approaches Sotelo’s cell the air turns from quiet to murmur to foreign tongue. He peeks around the corner and sees Tsunenaga  kneeling in front of Sotelo’s cell, palms turned toward the sky. Sotelo mirrors Tsunenaga ’s position and words. Neither man looks up, despite the fact that Sekiktan  knows they sense him.
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Sekiktan  relieves Tsunenaga  the next morning. “I saw you last night.”

“I know.” This time, Tsunenaga  stares right into Sekiktan ’s eyes. “Two years ago, Date Mesamune told me I can cleanse my mind, take my own life, or flee to Nagasaki. I thought of my family and denounced Christ. I made a mistake, one you will never understand, and now there is only one thing I can do.”

“I can not let you do that,” with each work Sekiktan  feels like he is betraying a brother, “You have endangered the samurai. You have endangered Date Mesamune. If you commit Seppuku you will be spitting on the face of Sandai.”

Tsunenaga  embraces his friend. He longs for Sekiktan ’s ignorance. He wishes that he never learned what he has learned; that he didn’t have to shoulder this burden. Sotelo brought it all out, spoke of martyrs and prayed with him through the night. “Do not tell Date Mesamune what you have seen here last night. Protect my family. I will drink poison.”

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