Book I: Origins

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Chapter 1: Hamato vs. Oroku

 

Hamato Yoshi was an honorable man.  Like many Japanese, he was very traditional in his ways.  Working hard, he loved his wife, and revered his country.  Each day he left in the morning, returning home after earning money to provide for him and his burgeoning family.  His income & home were modest, but substantial and well kept.  Himato took pride in himself, and what he’d accomplished.  He put a roof over his and his spouse’s heads, food on their table, heat for their house in the winter, and air conditioning when it got hot in the summer.  Yes, he built quite a life for himself.  Like I said, Hamato Yoshi was an honorable man: until he met Oroku Saki, and was forced to live in the sewers like a rat…

Hamato Yoshi befriended Oroku Saki when no one else would.  New to the company, the people there didn’t like Oroku's attitude.  His arrogance rubbed many of his fellow coworkers the wrong way.  It was Hamato alone who extended a friendly hand, eating lunch with him when no one else would.  It was Hamato who kept him company.  It was Hamato who invited him for dinner when he had nowhere else to go.  And it was Hamato who introduced him to his wife.

Tomoka Momotani, was a beautiful woman.  Too beautiful for Hamato, some would say.  They met on the train, both of them taking the same morning commute to work each weekday.  He to the office, her to the school.  Hamato couldn’t believe his eyes when he first saw her fine, porcelain skin acting as a blank canvas for her bold, rep lips and big, hazel eyes to be painted on.  Her long black hair cascaded down her shoulders, overflowing onto the lower back of her slender frame, which delicately stood by the doors of the train car, staring out the glass at the blurry world buzzing by, totally oblivious to her affect on Hamato.  Morning after morning he observed her repeating this activity, never speaking to anyone, only breaking from her gaze when someone would bump into her accidentally.    

Day after day he sought her out, ensuring the two of them were in the same car for the duration of their ride into Osaka.  For months Hamato tried talking to Tomoka, perpetually unable to muster up the courage to make the first move; which was very out of character for Hamato.  Greed never a motivating factor, instead his pursuits and passions came outside the workplace.  Not a CEO or six-figure salary man, nevertheless Hamato achieved a certain level of prosperity for himself.  A respected member of society with a good job and above-average income, he did not suffer from lack of confidence.  Exercising regulary, Hamato was in excellent shape.  Handsome, his face had character to it.  The type of face that got better looking the more you looked at it.  The face of a good man.  Always popular, typically Hamato had no problem approaching women (with varying degrees of luck throughout the years).  Yet despite this, he still couldn’t bring himself to start a conversation with the enigmatic girl on the train; until one day his ego got the better of him.

Casually, he crept towards her, making sure not to arouse any suspicion as he moved in her direction.  Unnoticed, he saddled up alongside her, staring out the same window of the sliding doors as her.  “Nice view,” he said, to which he received no reply.  The rest of the ride he stood silently, pleased simply to be near her.  It wasn’t until the train stopped, and they embarked upon their final destinations did Hamato try once again capturing her affections.  

“Excuse me,” he called from behind her, keeping a safe distance.  After she’d turned around and he'd gotten her attention, his plan eluded him.  Captivated by her beauty, he was speechless.  Mouthing the words, no audible sound actually exited his lungs.  What he meant to say was ‘Hi, I’m Hamato: how are you?’; but rather he stood there like a crazy person.  When Tomoka lost interest, resuming her usual route towards work, finally breath left Hamato’s throat.  “Wait!” he exclaimed with an urgency of impending natural catastrophe, because to him, her getting away would be a travesty.

Skeptical, she examined the specimen in front of her.  Disheveled, he panted furiously, like he’d just come from running a marathon.  Aside from any lame attempts at picking her up using some cheesy opening line, his eyes would tell his true intentions.  The window to the soul, if the eyes were true, she would entertain a conversation with this man: and Tomoka could tell.  Relying on her intuition, she trusted her gut more than her head-and especially more than her heart.  A lost, insecure girl, growing up she put her well-being in the hands of the wrong men, boys, really; boys who broke her heart too many times.  Was she ready to put her faith in mankind again?  In humanity?  In love?  His eyes would tell her so.  She would look into them, and see if there was a reason to dare to hope there was more to life than this wretched loneliness.

“Hi, I’m Hamato: how are you?”

They fell in love quickly.  Tomoka was undeniably beautiful, but her understated attractiveness often went overshadowed by girls more glamorous, more vivacious than a soft-spoken honors student.  Tomoka was a diamond in the rough Hamato had discovered, and he was determined not to let his treasure get away.  Devoting his whole life to Tomoka, he did everything to provide her with anything she needed.  For her part, Tomoka never made him feel threatened by another man.  Dutifully, she happily fulfilled her marital obligations to her husband.  A loving wife, the two of them were in matrimonial bliss, with no reason for Hamato to worry, no reason to be concerned.  No reason at all…until Tomoka was introduced to Oroku Saki.    

A transfer from another division out of Tokyo, Oroku didn’t receive the warmest welcome from his co-workers.  His coming to their branch meant one of them could be out of a job.  Hamato, however, wasn’t fretful over that. Secure in his position, he wasn’t intimidated by Oroku’s conceitedness and swagger.  Secretly, Hamato envied his counterpart’s persona of exuding brazen confidence and charisma.  The two of them bonded over their mutual interest in martial arts.  Neither into weight training, they found commonality in their enthusiasm for kung fu & karate.  Hamato glorified the samurai of the past; their traditions, customs, and values.  Oroku, on the other hand, idolized Bruce Lee; studying and imitating his movements in his daily routine.  More colleagues than competition, their relationship flourished in the workplace.  So much so, they decided to get together on a more familiar basis.  

It started out with the two of them grabbing drinks after work, then going for hikes up the local mountain trails, followed by double dates on the weekends.  The two of them becoming more than co-workers, they became actual friends.  Parties, dinners, outings, shopping, brunches, holidays, important occasions: the two of them were deeply embedded in each other’s lives on an intimate level.  That’s why it should have come as no surprise when Tomoka decided to have an affair with Oroku.  

Hamato came home early that day.  The Nagasaki division needed some training with their new software, and being head of tech support he was assigned to instruct their orientation.  Able to book an earlier flight home, he arrived sooner than expected, hoping to sneak up on his wife, catching her off guard.  Instead, what he caught her doing was making love to another man in his bed!

And they were in love.  Over the years, Tomoka and Oroku developed intense feelings.  On the sidelines, during those private moments, the two of them confessing their innermost thoughts, baring their souls in ways they didn’t even with their own partners.  A connection was formed between them that couldn’t be denied.  Oroku tempted Tomoka by promising her the world; and genuinely wanted to give it to her.  Empty, vapid, shallow trysts consumed his life until he met Tomoka.  She was someone he could truly communicate with.  Someone who got to the meaning of things without being bogged down in the benign superficialities and minutia of small talk. 

Head salesman, it was Oroku’s job to think ‘big’, nd Oroku’s big picture involved Tomoka.  He knew that meant his friendship with Hamato would be over, but it was a price he was willing to pay.  Tomoka wrestled with her feelings also, not wanting to hurt her husband, but unable to deny her attraction she knew what decision had to be made.  Countless nights she tossed, riddled with guilt about the contrarian thoughts and emotions running through her head. 

She was going to tell Hamato that night, after he came home from his trip.  That’s what Oroku was there to discuss.  She would tell him after she cooked him dinner.  She would prepare a nice meal after a long trip, then break the news to him.  Sufficiently full, perhaps he wouldn’t make a big scene.  She would tell him there was somebody else, but not that it was Oroku.  Some figment of her imagination swept her off her feet, and away from him.  Her bags would be packed in the front closet, and she would drive herself to Oroku’s after all was said and done.  Or, at least, that’s what she thought would happen…

Hamato first grew suspicious upon seeing the car parked outside their house; the house they’d made a home together.  No longer newlweds, they were talking about bringing a baby into the mix; but Tomoka had not been bringing it up as often as she used to.  Why was Oroku there?  He knew Hamato was out of town.  What could he be doing coming over?  Entering tentatively, dubious of what to expect inside, Hamato Yoshi was an honorable man, brought up to believe the best in people: and what he currently believed couldn’t possibly be going on.

He heard a commotion upstairs, sounding like flustered participants in an unlawful act hurrying, trying to cover their tracks.  Uncertain, there remained the slight possibility Tomoka was in danger of some kind, and as her protective husband, he rushed to her aid.  Flying up the stairs two at a time, Himato made it to his bedroom door.  Uninformed, his mind went wild with what could be happening on the other side.  Rushing in, nothing could’ve prepared him for what he witnessed…

Scurrying about, Hamato frantically put a mental list in order of what supplies he needed.  It was an accident…he told himself.  She got in the way.  The sword wasn’t meant to be used on her.  It was for self-defense against invaders who came into their home.  This was Tomoka’s home, she was welcome here; but he wasn’t.  To Hamato, Oroku was an intruder; but to Oroku, Hamato was the one who needed to learn when things were over.

They tried rationalizing with him.  They told Hamato they couldn’t live this lie any longer.  Hamato saw them saying the words, but his head whirled in a daze at the sight of them wrapped in bed sheets.  How could they do this to him?  Hadn’t he always been good and decent?  He adored Tomoka, and he was a loyal friend to Oroku.  He didn’t deserve this.  That’s when Hamato snapped.

Tomoka was the one he was really angry with, but he would deal with her later.  “No!” she cried as he ran towards the closet, completely aware of what object he was reaching for.  The two of them purchased it together at trade show.  

“I’ve always wanted a sword,” Hamato told her as he gripped all ten fingers firmly around the handle.  “I could use it if anyone ever attacks us,” he assured her.  And as far as Hamato was concerned, his home was under invasion.  

Unsheathing the blade, he would thrust it into Oroku’s chest, indifferent to the inevitable consequences.  His whole life, Hamato had done the right thing, and look where it had gotten him.  Now, he was fully prepared to do the wrong thing, and suffer his fate.  The tip of his sword did pierce flesh that night, puncturing an artery, causing the victim to bleed to death; only it wasn’t Oroku. 

A stunned Tomoka stared back at him.  Shocked, really.  Her mortality superceding her concerns about the morality of the situation.  If she didn’t move, she could stay alive like this forever.  But she was in too much pain not to move.  Not breaking from Himato’s eyes, her body crumbled to the floor, the rug she lay on becoming increasingly saturated with proof of Hamato’s crime.  How quickly the tables had turned, he now the criminal needing to cover his tracks.

Tears of anger and pain streamed down his face as he wept alongside the deceased body of his formerly beloved.  Why did you make me do this?  he thought as Tomoka collapsed, her final breaths leaking out with a gentle whimper.  The roar that followed came not from Hamato’s broken heart, but Oroku’s.

“No!” he howled, reminding Hamato he still had unfinished business.  “You killed her!”

Hamato’s rage reflected the realization this wasn’t his fault.  He hadn’t gone out of his marriage and had an affair with his wife’s best friend!  He hadn’t brought her back to their house to make love in their bed!  He hadn’t snuck around his partner’s back.  He hadn’t lied to his significant other.  He hadn’t defiled the sanctity of his wedding vows.  He hadn’t brought shame and dishonor to his family.  He hadn’t ruined everything!

In some ways Oroku did bring this upon them.  He wasn’t blameless.  This was a burden he would carry with him the rest of his life.  He was as culpable as Hamato in cementing Tomoka’s demise.  He’d played God, overstepping his boundaries, interfering with this couple’s relationship.  Delusions of grandeur got Tomoka killed, and he was going to have to accept that.  That being said, he wasn’t going to let Hamato do to him what he’d done to his wife…

Hamato thought about their exchange as he gathered his belongings.  A small overnight bag was all he would carry, haphazardly and frantically throwing clothes, toiletries, cash, and credit cards inside.  He had to step over both Tomoka’s and Oroku’s lifeless bodies to retrieve these item.  After Tomoka had expired, his focus turned to Oroku.  No coward, he charged at Hamato, hoping to reach him before he was able to arm himself again.  Unfortunately, Hamato was more adept at wielding the blade than initially given credit for.

Mild-mannered, Hamato wanted to protect his family, never imagining he’d ever take another’s life.  Never thinking there would be reason to go on the offensive.  Once his murderous rage was unleashed, there was no going back.  Tomoka was dead, that fatality a finality; Oroku, on the other hand, still had to be dealt with.

Quickly removing the smooth steel in one swift motion, Hamato rose to his feet, meeting his challenger.  His reflexes caught Oroku off guard, as he hesitated, adjusting his approach ever so slightly.  Capitalizing on that brief window, Hamato slashed his sword downward, cutting Oroku across the face.  In rapid succession, he then took the blade, horizontally slicing Oroku across his bare stomach.  Wounded, he spun around, giving Hamato a big bullseye right in the center of his back to aim at.  Stabbing straight ahead, he jammed his sword into Oroku’s spine, dropping him to the ground once and for all.  There he lie, next to his adulterous accomplice, deemed guilty by their judge, jury, and executioner. 

Rifling through his dresser drawers, he tried remembering where she put their passports.  Throwing unimportant objects throughout the room, Hamato sidestepped, dodged, and avoided the corpses on the ground while devising a plan of action.  The pool of liquid on the carpet in his bedroom growing exponentially, Hamato knew he didn’t have long to debate the topic.  He had to get out of Japan, that was paramount.  He needed to get to an airport immediately, and fly as far away as possible.  He wanted to go where no one would ever find him. 

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