On July, 1578, Ito Kato, aged 45, and Kusagiri Kato, aged 38, died from their severe injuries.
Yarimato Kato went missing and was presumed dead.
Twelve samurai died that night, and Kotoro Usoku fled the scene of the attack.
A few days later, he was caught and sentenced to death, which was carried out by Takatoshi, Ito Kato’s best student.
Ito Kato and Kusagiri Kato were buried next to Ito’s dojo, where he became a hero who fought no matter what and gave his life in the hope of saving his family.
Ito Kato became someone people wanted to emulate, while Yarimato was left all alone.
Yarimato survived in the forest for two weeks, but during that time he was unable to come to terms with his fate.
He was tormented by nightmares of fierce flames tearing his father’s flesh apart and sharp blades cutting him to pieces.
Yarimato ate and drank nothing, he was lonely and in pain.
Unable to bear the torment and nightmares, Yarimato’s head felt like it was exploding.
That day, Yarimato’s inner pain caused him to injure his head, which robbed him of his ability to distinguish colors.
As a result, the whole world became gray for him, and his eyes became cold and dark.
After a couple of weeks, Yarimato lost a lot of weight and was barely alive.
Since he was still a child, he didn’t know what to do or how to survive, so he thought he would die.
One day, while wandering through the forest, he stumbled upon a huge staircase that climbed up the mountain.
Yarimato was already weak, but he believed that at the top of this mountain he would find what he needed.
It was a wide and long stone staircase with thousands of steps leading upward.
Yarimato hadn’t eaten anything for a long time, so despite his weakness, he continued to climb upward, hoping that it would all be worth it.
Yarimato climbed these steps for hours, and it seemed like an eternity because each step brought him pain and heaviness.
His fingers and toes were bleeding, and his legs and arms were shaking from fatigue, but Yarimato understood that if he did not reach the top, then he would die here.
After a couple of hours, Yarimato crawled to the top, where he saw a huge area with a small dojo and a long, wide path in front of him, on which stood an unknown man.
There were many beautiful Sakura trees and many beautiful flowers and bushes on this mountain, but Yarimato could not see such beautiful colors, and his gaze was fixed on the lone man standing in front of him, with Sakura petals falling around him.
Suddenly, the man turned his back on Yarimato and was about to leave.
Yarimato decided to call out to him, but his throat felt as if it were clogged with sharp blades, so Yarimato decided to walk up to the stranger himself, and after much pain and suffering, Yarimato approached the tall, thin old man.
This old man was tall, his arms and legs were long and thin, his build was thin but slender.
He was dressed in black wide hakama pants and a wide dark blue kimono with large sleeves.
His face was elongated with prominent cheekbones.
His hair was dark with silver, carelessly tousled, as if he often ran his hand through it in moments of concentrated work or reflection.
His high forehead bore traces of wrinkles, but not of fatigue, rather of thought.
He wore thin glasses, and his gaze was direct and deep, revealing both strength of character and the calm confidence of a man who had seen much but had not lost his inner clarity.
His straight, imposing nose and narrow, almost compressed lips gave his entire appearance a sense of restraint and severity.
But this severity did not come from malice, but from strength.
His thick gray mustache and small stubble emphasized the stern oval of his face, adding masculinity.
His old and wrinkled hands carried a special strength, but not the kind that is measured in muscles, but the kind that is felt in actions.
These were the hands of a man who had taken and protected lives more than once.
The old man stood silently and looked at him as if waiting for him to speak, but when he did not, he began first.
Old man: What do you want, boy?
The old man said in a hoarse and rough voice.
Yarimato: I need help.
Yarimato said in a trembling voice.
Old man: Go home, boy, you don’t belong here.
Yarimato: I don’t have a home anymore, my parents .
.
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Before he could finish, the old man interrupted Yarimato and said, “I don’t care what happened to you. Don’t bother me and go wherever you want, but not to me.”
The old man turned his back on Yarimato again and was about to leave.
Yarimato was disappointed and wanted to cry, but he gathered himself and clenched his fist, trying to grab the old man’s shoulder.
But just before he touched him, Yarimato felt a powerful energy emanating from the old man and, unable to resist, fell backward from the force coming from him.
Yarimato did not understand what kind of enormous power this old man, who at first glance seemed thin and weak, possessed.
Yarimato got up, sat down directly opposite him, took a deep breath, and said insistently, “Please, sir, help me! I will do whatever you ask!”
The old man turned and came a little closer and said, “Are you sure you are ready to go through such suffering?
What you are about to do will be hundreds of times harder and more painful than what you have done before.
Your life will seem like hell only because the road to heaven is like hell, and the road to hell is like heaven.
Are you ready to endure the hardest fate of a human being?
If so, then stand up, and from this day forward, you will call me your Sensei, and my name is Takahashi.
Yarimato accepts Takahashi’s offer and, standing up, Yarimato becomes the old man Takahashi’s student.
Yarimato: Takahashi-Sensei, I will become your student.
Takahashi: And what is your name, young man?
Yarimato: Yarimato Kato.
Takahashi pauses and thinks for a moment, then says: From this day forward, you are no longer Yarimato Kato.
From this day forward, you will be called Yarimato Takahashi.
Yarimato was only 10 years old when he became Takahashi’s student.
Takahashi-sensei appeared to be between 50 and 60 years old, but in reality, he was much older than he looked.
His dojo was not as big as a castle, but it still had many rooms for training, and the area where the dojo was located was huge.
There were many trees, flowers, and even a small river, which had been created by hand for beauty.
In front of the building was a large, wide area where Yarimato would train and develop his skills.
Behind the dojo was a large area from which one could see the sunrise, ending right at the edge of the mountain.
To reach this place behind the dojo, there was a long corridor with massive columns.
This corridor was quite wide and spacious, making it very interesting to walk through.
The dojo itself is three stories high and has everything you need for both living and training.
In addition to Yarimato and Takahashi, three young women in their twenties live on this mountain and take care of Takahashi.
These three women are dressed in neat and beautiful robes, and their faces are kind and sweet.
Takahashi-sensei provides them with shelter and food and also pays them for their work, as one cooks, another provides medical care, and the last one keeps the mountain clean and tidy.
After bringing Yarimato to the dojo, Takahashi-sensei assigned him a room, and then his workers washed, fed, and dressed him.
Takahashi: You are too weak to start training, so we will feed you up first, and then we will begin.
But don’t think it will be that easy, these are temporary measures to restore your body.
Yarimato: Thank you, Takahashi-sensei, I will do my best.
Yarimato was happy that he had been taken in and that he would soon begin to learn the art of sword fighting, but it wasn’t that simple, because a month later, Yarimato would find himself in hell, which would become his home.
The end of arc: Father