The Origin of the Samurai #15: 宿命 (shukumei)
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The Origin of the Samurai #15: 宿命 (shukumei)

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To see the previous installments, click on the following links: #1, #2, #3, #4, #5, #6, #7, #8, #9, #10, #11, #12, #13, #14

I find myself sitting on the floor of my cell. My back is against the cold stone wall and my gaze is lost in nothingness. My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, a tide of memories and forebodings that won't let me rest. I am waiting for the irremediable…

I remember my childhood in Coria del Río, the carefree days by the Guadalquivir river, the scent of orange blossom floating in the air, the warmth of my mother's voices, calling my name. I remember the feeling of the Andalusian sun on my skin before embarking on a journey of no return... Then, I remember arriving in Japan... and encountering the rigidity of my samurai upbringing, the discipline forged through effort and loyalty. Here, I learned bushidō and swore my sword to the Date clan.

But now everything hangs in the balance.

In the gloom of my cell, I recall the face of Aoi Takasugi, the craftswoman whose skill with porcelain is matched only by the steadfastness of her spirit. I remember her bent over her work, her fine, sure hands tracing delicate brushstrokes on the ceramics. Despite her condition, her apparent fragility, she behaved in court with the dignity of a warrior. She betrayed no one, she sought no excuses or indulgences. She accepted his fate with the same determination with which she moulded the clay, without breaking, without giving in.

Meanwhile, the court is deliberating my fate. I know what happens to those who are accused of heresy or disloyalty. Seppuku seems inevitable, but what pains me most was not my own death, but the knowledge that I have been a piece in a larger game, a pawn sacrificed in a conspiracy whose true target is the Date clan.

To be continued

Header Image:

The Great Wave of Kanagawa (1830 - 1833), engraving by Katsushika Hokusai, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.

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