FINAL FORM
The darkness fled in a sudden whoosh, and you coalesced back into the human-shaped shade that loomed before me. The sounds of the forest returned. The setting sun glimmered through the treetops. The old torii gates stood as proud and stalwart as ever, and lush cherry blossom trees lined the pathway like fierce guardians.
That’s right. You have never been affected by physical attacks. You were a demon of doubt and fear, and it was about time I faced them.
“I forgive myself,” I whispered. Those three soft words caused you to stagger far harder than from any blade or snarling threats. “I give myself grace. I give myself mercy. I give myself compassion. I give myself understanding. I give myself forgiveness.”
With each word, you shrunk back, until you flung out your arms to bar me from climbing another step up the mountain.
“Stop! You betrayed your clan! They hate you for how you failed them. They hate you for how you abandoned them. They hate you because you weren’t there.”
“No. My Sistahs loved me! They loved me and I should never have forgotten that. They are gone, but I am not alone.” I unsheathed my katana and the sound crooned through the forest. “And I choose to no longer carry their deaths. Instead, I choose to carry their love.”
Those cherry blossom trees along the pathway had branches that arched overhead. Across the distance, they held hands, and embraced, and hugged one another. With a gentle breeze, they danced with one another. I used to fear their weight, but the surrounding pink enveloped a shield around me.
“AREN’T YOU TIRED???” You roared, growing bigger and bigger.
The torii cracked, failing to contain your increasing berth. With a thrash, you stripped a whole portion of the forest of its leaves and blossoms. The trail bowed beneath you. You stretched and elongated and evolved into an enormous, black-scaled dragon.
Your length snaked around the mountain like a dark winding cloud. You swiveled your head in my direction, full and swollen off seven years of my doubts and insecurities. I was but a pebble to your pagoda.
“I am always god-damned tired,” I snapped, unflinching. I widened my arms out in an open sword stance as if offering myself as a sacrifice. “I never have any damn time for myself. I am always rushing from one place to another. I am always fighting—either fighting for respect, fighting for more time, or fighting fools who dare to disrupt my peace. I am tired every second of the day, but I am still alive. I am still here. I am still a Sistah Samurai, so you can get the fuck out of my way. Either move or be moved.”
I charged forward up the mountain and you, this great giant dragon, lunged to meet me. The breadth of your size swallowed the dusk and your tail curved around the moon. The wooden steps gave way to a rocky incline. I raced up and up, charging toward your descending mantled comet. Your monstrous face rammed closer, whiskers undulating at your fierce speed, horns protruding with a metal gleam, teeth sharp with wicked blades, and eyes the color of white fire. I didn’t back down. I didn’t hesitate. I barged headfirst into your dark open maw.
And cut you, bitch, like paper.
Your painful screech echoed through my ears. I ripped through scales as I raced up and around the mountain. I blindly curved around the boulders and loose divots, and ducked beneath the tree limbs I knew were in my path. I had told you that I never needed no help to see the ground I’ve walked a thousand times before.
My katana grew heavy. My thighs burned. That hip ached. Your serpentine length seemed endless, but I refused to surrender as I carved one long continuous path before me. The darkness parted around my blade like a river of water, two winding ribbons waving in my wake. I am too much, you say? Ha ha ha ha! I am enough. I am me.
A burst of light flooded my vision.
And I finally cut myself free.
I slid to my knee, katana pointed forward, and panted from the exertion. The mountain air was noticeably cool on my cheeks, pasting sweat to my forehead. And yet, I felt hot all over, that type of heat after an exhausting and satisfying sparring match. My fingers had locked up around the hilt of my katana, and they cramped as I stretched and shook them out. Dusk lasted only briefly, before being swallowed by the horizon.
I rose to my feet, sheathed my katana, and looked over my shoulder.
Hundreds of gold lights wreathed the mountain. A kimono of gold silk wrapped regally around Kuroi-san. Then the souls spun and twirled, fluttering my clothes at the center of an upward spiral, churning into a whirling vortex of luminescence.
I’ve never seen a demon release so many souls before. How long had you been haunting this realm before we met? How many had you abused and terrorized and fed from? How many of my Sistahs had you taken from me?
The souls paraded a first line into the sky, stepping and bouncing and swing dancing with the stars. Cypress leaves and cherry blossoms swirled in their wake like second line parasols and feathered fans. The procession marched a golden arch into the heavens, and constellations glittered like diamonds and iridescent pearls at the end of their own rainbows.
I closed my eyes. And listened.
Finally.
Peace.