248

“Tré”

fic

You could draw your odachi. You could. Two quick strokes could finish him off, there and there. He looks tough, but he doesn’t know his way around a sword – it’s clear enough. Teach him a lesson.

Your fingers reach for the hilt – then you remember what Katsu said. The old ways of the samurai belong to another age. We need to listen to others now, and understand them. That’s what they did in his America. That’s how we’re going to move into the future, and take our place in the world.

You clench your fist, and move your hand over your chest, and blurt out the first conciliatory words you can find. “I’m sure we can come to an understanding.”