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He wondered. Perhaps it was finally time to give up this façade, and reveal myself for what I am. It’s better than dying, right?

’I wouldn’t be so sure... I’d be left without an identity... I’d be nothing.’

He muttered. He had always announced himself as a travelling ronin, on a quest to become as strong as he could. He stated that as the reason for him not serving a lord. But the truth was far different. The truth was that he was weak, and no lord wished to employ him. It was standard procedure for a lord to test the integrity and strength of those that would serve under him, and he failed in both departments.

As such, he had come about this new persona of his, and with it, he felt some degree of fulfilment. People looked towards him with respect when he spoke, and in the end, that’s all he really wanted.

Yet after all these years, he had made his first mistake. He had smelt fear oozing out of the merchant’s skin. He had known that he could beat him, for even though his skill was poor, he still had some training with the sword.

Though it seemed that which he smelled had not been fear. It had been something that fed on fear, and thus gave a similar scent. When those eyes locked with his, he knew his chances of winning were slim.

His only chance at surviving the duel – whilst also keeping his honour intact – was to avoid it entirely. Though now, by the way they were talking, it seemed that would be difficult.

"My... To think I’d get to witness Samurai-san’s duel. It’s an honour."

She said flirtatiously.

His apprentice was similarly excited, though he did his best to remain dignified. Yet in the ronin’s mind, he was busy plotting the best way to let them down.

...

...

"Do you think it will cause problems – that duel you accepted?"

Kitajo asked, concerned that Gengyo might have made a rash decision.

"I wonder. I don’t plan to loose any sleep over it, though. If he blocks my way, and forces me into the duel, then I’ll end his life. Otherwise, it shouldn’t be a problem."

The young lad nodded, a little more convinced. No one could question the results of an official duel, with witnesses present, even if they wanted to. Whilst standing out wasn’t exactly what they wished for, nor was to be slowed down by unneccary obstacles. It seemed quicker and simpler to accept the duel, rather than to feign weakness and avoid it.

"Goodnight then, Kitajo."

Gengyo said wearily, as he slid open the door to his room, and let out a yawn.

"Goodnight, Miura."

The lad responded in kind, disappearing inside his own room.

Night had fully descended at this point, and no light permeated into his room. He slid under the warm blanket, relishing the comfort. It was certainly a huge improvement from sleeping on the cold ground.

Here, he reasoned, a good nights sleep might be possible. He was relaxed, and truly exhausted. Even the torment of his own mind was not liable to keep him awake.

But, it seemed, he was wrong. At least for a time. It took a good few hours of restless thought before his mind finally deemed him safe, and allowed him to drift off for a time.

He awoke at numerous points. But the weight of his exhaustion was too much for him to dwell on the content of the dreams, and so he would lay his head straight back down.

Like this, he slept longer than he had in a good while. And even as the morning light drifted in - and notified him of the return of the day - he did not pay it heed, and he did not stir. Whilst the man had insisted that he duel him in the morning, he did not care for such a thought. It was merely a single leaf of the lake of his consciousness, and was far outweighed by his need for sleep.

Kitajo awoke before him, and quietly slid open the door to his room. He smiled lightly when he saw that his master was still sleeping, and then he returned to his own room to wait. He was well aware of the difficultly Gengyo was having, and so, even if he had to fight off a group of men alone, he would not allow him to be awoken.

It was noon before he finally left the protection of his blankets. He blinked a couple of times, lazily growing used to the light. He then stretched deeply, before he went in search of his comrade.

"Morning, Kitajo."

He said, as he slid open the door of his friend’s room. He was feeling rather energetic with the sleep that he had managed to steal, and was certain they could make good progress on the road today.

"Good afternoon, Miura. It seems you have missed your duel with that man, is that a problem?"

Gengyo shrugged as if it was the furthest thing from his mind.

"I doubt he minds."

Kitajo chuckled lightly at that. It was certainly true – the supposed master swordsman had become a rabbit merely upon receiving Gengyo’s gaze. What would happen when he received his sword?

"Mm... Do you think – before we leave – we might be able to see Menryo-ji? Even if it’s not true, it wouldn’t hurt to look up, would it?"

The lad asked timidly. It seemed he felt nervous about slowing them down.

"Sure. We’ll be riding past it anyway."

Gengyo replied indifferently. The road deeper in South Shinano territory ran straight past the temple, and so it would make no difference to their journey to pay it a visit.

He instantly perked up upon seeing that his request was accepted, and let loose a grin. Though he had said what he had before, it seemed he too wished to believe in the Menryo-ji’s offer of enlightenment.

In his excitement, he went to order them some food, as Gengyo collected their belongings. They had brought their own food supplies with them, but they had to make the effort whenever they could to conserve such supplies, as they did not know when they might need them.

After a quick meal, and a few words to the guards, they were remounted, and back on the road. Even if they did not have the road to follow, it was relatively easy to find Menryo-ji, as it stood intimidatingly on it’s hill, surrounded by forest.

Even though they had not made haste, it did not take them long to reach the steps of the famed temple.

The worn stone steps ran upwards – thousands of them. One could just barely see the top, where two bald men stood guard, spears held ready to skewer anyone foolish enough to come so close.

It was not a simple deterrent either. There had been those foolish enough to go against the temple’s warnings, and they had been killed on the spot, without a single shred of mercy. The monk’s skill was heavenly, and no matter how arrogant you were, it was simple folly to challenge them.

And nor did these two men wish to. They dismounted their beasts, and slowly walked to the bottom of the steps. Apart from the length of the stairs, it seemed much like any other temple, and even as they stood in silence, staring up at the top, he felt nothing, aside from the glares of the monks that looked down on them, daring them to take a step forward.

’Perhaps that was the enlightenment then.’

He wondered.

’The realization that there are people far stronger than you.’

He imagined that the monks would appear quite intimidating to most, and could certainly cause such an understanding. But for him, simply looking up as they were – it accomplished nothing.

"See anything, Kitajo?"

He asked, wondering whether his companion was experiencing any success.

"Nope... I just see two bald guys."

He said honestly.

"Same for me. I suppose this is a bit of a waste of time, eh? But still, the temple does look rather grand, and if we were allowed closer to see it, then I imagine the journey would be worth it."

"Mhm. I can’t understand those who have travelled so long simply to stare up at two bald monks. I imagine they’d be rather disappointed."

"Perhaps. But I’m guessing they’d prefer to lie to themselves, and pretend that they had reached some sort of enlightenment, so that the trip wouldn’t be so disappointing."

"That’s true..."

He agreed, hoping back onto his horse, as the whirled around, and prepared to rejoin the road.

In that moment of silence, a familiar voice reached their ears.

"Haha! It is disappointing, that’s true, but for a merchant to wish to duel is unusual in the first place, is it not?"

A man said loudly.

"I guess that’s why he accepted your duel so quickly – he never had any intention of showing!"

His apprentice said bitterly.

Their voices came from just around the corner formed by the trees and the temple path, so they could not yet see the pair.

Gengyo turned to Kitajo with a look of irritation on his face. They were the last people he wished to see – he had plans to cover good ground today.

Kitajo trotted up alongside him, so when the four of them rounded the corner – the two women were still with the master-apprentice duo – they were sat mounted, glaring down at them.

Neither of them bothered to speak, even as recognition crossed the group’s faces, and they pointed fingers, announcing that they had found him.

"That’s him, isn’t it, Samurai-san? That’s the man who promised to dual you."

But the ronin did not respond. His skin had suddenly become rather pale, and words no longer came to him as easily. When Gengyo had not turned up that morning, he had felt as though he had the best luck in the world, as he was able to keep both his identity and his life.

And now that luck had reversed, for he had visited the temple at the exact same time as he.

"HA! We’ve found you, coward! You promised to dual my master!"

The apprentice called out spitefully, gesticulating arrogantly. Gengyo merely regarded him lightly with a raised eyebrow.

After a few moments of listening to the irritating buzz of their pretentious conversation, he dismounted his horse, and drew his sword.

"Let’s get this over with, shall we?"

He said, as though it was a simple, everyday, mundane task. His response caught them off guard – it was rather out of character for the man that they had conjured up within their mind.

"Master?"

The boy asked, looking up at the ronin, who still had not moved, and was frozen like a rabbit caught up in the glare of a tiger.

"Ah..?"

Was all he managed to say in response, as he looked slowly towards his pupil, his forehead slick with sweat.

"Master? Are you alright?"

He asked, seeming genuinely concerned. It would not do for his master to get sick – not right before a duel was about to happen.

"Would you like me to hold your scabbard?"

The quiet woman from the previous evening asked. She had an inkling that his identity was a fraudulent one, and was rather excited about revealing that to her partner, who had spent so long flirting with him, attempting to win his favour.