Affirmation
23 August 1998
by Jason Postma

Jinjiro sat up, at first quickly, but he quickly felt how a lot of his blood was covering his face instead of flowing in his veins, and slumped back to the floor.

Where was he? Where was Etsuki? Who?

Jinjiro's head was a muddle. Hoturi must have hit him hard this time. Where was his sword?

He looked around to see himself lying in a strangely familiar farmhouse. Green ichor surrounded a hole to the cellar. Ishi stood nearly naked, his clothing a smoking pile in the corner. Marako slumped against a wall, looking much as Jinjiro imagined he must look at this moment.

Reaching for his sword, Jinjiro felt a ring around his finger. Of course! The ring that would win back his Etsuki! The oni hadn't obeyed, but he was sure...

What was he thinking? Jinjiro tore the ring from his finger and hurled it to Ishi.

"Ishi! Go!" His voice was a croak.

Ishi fled from the house to his horse, and Jinjiro was allowed time to gather his wits.

Takehai looked unharmed but confused. He came over to Jinjiro and laid his hand on his wound, lightly. Much of the pain faded as the ise zumi took it upon himself. Jinjiro found his head clearing, but what had happened made no sense. He had been a farmer, in this house...and had wanted desperately to kill...another farmer?

Jinjiro shuddered to remember his thoughts of a moment ago. Had that been love he had felt? For a farmer's wife? Hatred he was familiar with, but not the desperate futility of the farmer Wakito's life. Jinjiro's stomach turned at the memories.

After the return to the forest the three had searched out what had happened. It was no wonder that he had been unable to kill Tago, with Naoki pulling his strings. Takehai's experience seemed the strangest, and Jinjiro did not envy him.

He wondered, if he had killed Tago and avoided the Oni, if he would have remained Wakito forever. Wakito must lie buried in that village, along with Tago and Etsuki. No mere heimin could have escaped the house, and Wakito had been so pitiful with a sword...

Jinjiro's faith in the celestial order had been strengthened greatly by the experience. There was no question that he could not have stood the life of a farmer. Leave that to others better suited to the task. He, Jinjiro, could only have been what he was–samurai.