Vengeance is Mine

She had searched for years, without a trace of him, seeking endlessly for any hint that might reveal his whereabouts. Only silence was revealed—the nothingness that none but a professional can disclose. Though she grew weary, her body tired and her mind questioning why she followed a path made of stillness when she could be starting a family of her own, to take the place of the one he had killed, only once answer came.1

Vengeance.2

The very word was the beat of her heart, the breath in her lungs, until she knew nothing else—not the hunger in her stomach, nor the exhaustion that preyed on her. Only the knowledge that he had destroyed everything that she held dear: her husband, son, and twin daughters. 3

It had never occurred to her that she could lose them at any moment, have her everything taken away by one man. But that day, she realized how easy it had been for him, breaking down the door, marching into her house, killing her husband when he stood up to demand what was going on, and then pulling her children from her and killing them, mutilating their small bodies until she could barely recognize them, and tossing them to the floor.4

And then he had turned to her. Terrified, a young mother of seventeen, she could do nothing but watch as he advanced on her, sword in hand, a malicious smirk curving his lips as he saw her eyes widen with fear. She stepped backwards, searching for something—anything—that would help her. 5

As her back touched the wall, her hands had found her father’s sword: long, sharp, and deadly, the weapon he had treasured. She would not let the man get what he wanted, no matter what the cost.6

Pulling the weapon from its hooks on the wall, she had followed the instincts of desperation, swinging the sword at him and, as he moved back, startled, slashing at his hands where they held the sword. She missed, and the better steel of her sword cut through his sword at the hilt, leaving him with only a short sword at his belt.7

Surprised at the occurrence, she had lunged at him, forcing him towards the door. As she backed him out of it, he glanced around and, seeing his horse, turned and ran, for he had seen that he had no chance of winning, with her better armed than he.8

Now, nearly fifteen years later, as he had come in the spring, she had discovered where he was. Acting the polite, deferential woman, she came to his door and knocked. When it was answered, she spoke quietly to the doorkeeper.9

“I am Hiroko Kian,” she said, bowing. She held out the sword in her hands as she continued. “I have a gift for General Matsu that I must give to him myself.”10

The doorkeeper bowed also, and showed her in. “The General is in the courtyard,” he told her. “Follow me, please.” 11

She was shown into a wide courtyard, with high walls, where the snow had started to accumulate. As the doorkeeper left, she spoke loudly, her voice echoing in the nearly empty courtyard. 12

“General Matsu is a worm, not even worthy to be a lizard, related to a dragon. The dragon would shun him, as do all who know of his evil deeds.”13

He turned from the scroll that he was reading, and a look of startled amazement crossed his face. He looked much older than when she had last seen him, and it surprised her, for during all the years which she had searched, she had seen his face as the same, and forgotten the passing of time and its effects.14

“Because of those deeds, he shall die as the worm he is,” she continued. As he drew his sword, she took the fabric that was in the belt of her kimono in her left hand, and held her father’s sword in her right. She had carried it all these years for one purpose: to avenge her family and take the life of a wicked man.15

The General lifted his sword to strike at her, but she grasped it with the cloth so that it would not cut her, and stabbed him through the heart with her own sword. She pulled it back out of his body, ignoring the blood that stained his clothes and speckled her butterfly-embroidered kimono. Watching him die, she felt the rage seep from her heart and mind, and the surface of her thoughts calmed like a pond after a storm.16

When she walked out of the courtyard through the street-gate, her spirits lifted, and a smile curved her lips.17