One day, some time after I had begun my cultural exchange of trading blacksmithing knowledge with Old Saku, he made a proposal.
“I think I have a grasp on your nature now. So I have a suggestion. I have heard from Gonzou that you are quite the swordsman.”
Saying so, he handed me a katana. I wasn’t quite sure what he was getting at, but I unsheathed the blade as he asked. It was quite the beautiful weapon, but it also had an overwhelming dreadfulness to it. It was like the tip of the blade was sucking me in. It was an incredible, atmospheric piece.
“Among all of the works I have spent my past years on, this one is the best I’ve ever made. I will lend it to you, so please use it for your daily practice.”
Wait, wait, wait. The unexpected request sent me reeling. This was no doubt an incredible weapon. Just being allowed to look at it felt like a reward. I could easily understand this being the best thing he’d made in years. But I didn’t understand why he felt the need to lend it to me. And why for training?
“Of course, that is only an example. But the length, weight, curve, center of gravity...everything about it perfectly matches the historical customs of Fusou bladesmithing. I hope that by using that sword, you will come to a deeper understanding of what a katana is.”
I see. He was telling me to use this sword so I could learn how katana were to be used. Weapons were tools designed to take lives, whether they be of people or not. There was meaning behind their shape, their length, their weight. There was a purpose behind the curve in the blade, behind the placement of its center of gravity. He was telling me to learn all of that by using the weapon itself, not just by making them. For someone like me, who was an accomplished swordsman on top of being a blacksmith, that would enhance my understanding of the weapon.
But even so, I didn’t see why he had to lend me such an incredible piece to do it with. I wondered if there was more to it than he was letting on. Of course I had no intention of running off with it, but having him hand it to me so casually was a bit concerning.
Ah, perhaps that was why he made a comment about understanding my nature. If I were to run off with this weapon or treat it poorly, it wouldn’t just be betraying Old Saku’s trust in me, it would also be betraying Old Gon’s trust, as he was the one who had introduced us. Once he had learned I wasn’t the kind of person to do that, he was willing to lend it to me. And beyond that, maybe he thought that lending me such a masterwork would help me learn better than giving me an ordinary sword.
At any rate, the weight of his kindness felt heavy on my shoulders. I was incredibly grateful for the opportunity.
So for the rest of my stay in Outo, when no others were around to watch, I used Old Saku’s sword for my daily training in order to learn the difference between the swords I knew and the katana of Fusou.
For example, despite actually weighing the same, the katana felt strangely lighter when swung or when taking a stance. Maybe that was because of the curved blade, or the center of gravity being closer to the hilt.
Of course, when I first held it, it felt very strange in my hands. The straight swords used by the Yosogi School had much in common with the katana Old Saku lent me, but that made the differences between them stand out all the more.
But as I used it for my daily training, going through the Yosogi School’s forms, I realized something. Though it wasn’t the case for all of them, a number of the forms felt much smoother using the katana than the usual straight sword. It felt so perfect, as if the techniques themselves had been designed for this very weapon.
The idea of the old Yosogi masters having abandoned this weapon after reaching the center of the continent filled me with a feeling of regret. They must have felt the same unpleasant sensation I did when they first took a straight sword in hand, or perhaps even more. Even so, they had put down roots in that new land and left their techniques behind for their successors. That was why I had been able to meet Kaeha and learn the techniques of the Yosogi School myself.
Old Saku couldn’t have known all of this when he lent me this sword, but now I felt I had reached a new level of passion, or a new level of desperation, to truly understand the use and forging of katana so that I could bring them back to the center of the continent.
This was the only way I could repay the debt I felt to my predecessors, who had connected me to so many important things in my life.