General Asano Hisanori stood firm, as a dance of cannonballs and bullets raged around him. In a simple field uniform, only golden linings on the epaulets demonstrating his ranks of a full General, he looked at the lines with a fierce gaze. Only fifty-two years old, he already managed to make his name glorious - more than any of his Daymio ancestors, frankly speaking. And it seemed that today he may receive the final glory of death.
- Father, you are too valuable for the country and the army! Maybe you could delegate to me and... ! - Asano Yoshinaga, Viscount of Hiroshima, the eldest son to Hisanori, addressed his father, concern in his voice. The commander of the Southern Army looked at his child grimly. - You insult me just by suggesting it, son. never say such a thing again. The young Colonel shrugged and returned to his troops. Marquis Asano continued to issue commands, moving the units from one side of the front to the other - and yet they did not have enough men to break the Persian-British encircling. The enemy artillery was continuing to send its deathly greetings to Japanese regiments - and yet their General did not surrender, for not surrendering what the Emperor and Date have given him was more important than saving his life. Much more important.
- Sir. their cavalry is near the command post! - young Captain Zatochi Ito, aide-de-campe to Marquis Asano, pointed at a platoon of British hussars that haы somehow managed to break through. - Not for long. - Hisanori fired his pistol, slaughtering the red-cheeked Cornet leading the assault - and soon the riftles of the infantry men guarding the headquarters dealt with them. But it was clear that their defences were weakening Asano Hisanori spurred his stallion, as he saw several units starting to retreat under the artillery assault. - Men, what are you doing? Have you forgotten about the Japanese honor, about your duties? - he roared in a booming voice, oblivious of the danger. A bullet scratched his cheek, leaving a long red scar - but the General did not react to it, for his soul was preoccupied with the battle. One of the retreating officers, a burly major in a pincnet, bowed, as he made his excuses. - Your Excellency, I dont want to die! Asano Hisanori looked at him, deep shock in his gaze. - You do not want to die for the Son of Amaterasu? Do you want to live forever, scoundrel? Asano wanted to add something else - but then he felt a strange sensation. He was lifted into the air, losing his hearing, sight and then conscience. And when he has woken up, Hisanori was in a tent, his left hand replaced by a helpless stump.
His aide-de-campe Zatochi, his son and a doctor were looking at him, pity in their eyes. - I need to return and command... Help me to stand up... - the Marquis whispered. The doctor shrugged, while Asano Yoshinaga bit his lips. Then the medician dared to answer. - My General, I cannot even stop the bleeding. You probably have twenty minutes left. Staying silent for a few moments, Asano told his son. - I always loved you, Yoshinaga. Go and take command - and my blessing. They kissed each other - and then his heir left. He learned to put duty above everything else - his father educated him that way - Say, Ito... Did I really see Japanese soldiers running? Running like Nanban scum? - asked Hisanori in a hoarse voice, as his aide-de-campe helped him to drink some water. Zatochi Ito made a grimace, as he did not want to answer - but then spoke up. - Some of them, sir, vast majority fought and died like men... Asano Hisanori shook his head. - I would have preferred to go blind rather than see it.... An old-school soldier, he believed, like all true Samurai, than even becoming a prisoner of war was dishonorable. Fight or die - that were the only choices. - Some of them did become quite modern - though not as much as the womanly pacifists in Tokyo, besmirching us while we fight... He looked at his aide-de-camp. He was not a simple junior officer . Zatochi belonged to a minor noble family from Hiroshima, owning a small manor and serving the Asano clan as retainers for hundreds of years. Therefore he was a perfect candidate. - Ito, I want to go the way my ancestors would. And I want you to be my kaishakunin. Would you do it for me? Ito tried to argue - but then, seeing the eyes of his master, simply nodded. The final grace. The final help. He could not refuse it to his lord. - Fine. Then bring the tools.
In a few moments Zatochi returned with a Tanto dagger, sharp, with a hilt of ivory. With a long Katana sword that belonged to Asano family for ages, its blade decorated with silver flowers. Helped his master change into a white kimono. And then the ritual began. After a short prayer, Asano smiled - and plunged the Tanto knife into his guts. His body struggled in the agony - but he stopped Ito from immediately giving him the final mercy, speaking up. - When you are done, bring my sword to my son, together with hatred for Nanban... And cut the bloody kimono into two parts... Bring one to the Emperor and the second to Date - and tell them... That if I lived a hundred lifes, I would give each of them to His Majesty, the Prince and eternal Nippon... He took a gulp of air, pain now becoming immense. - Old friend Date... Soon we would drink sake together with the Kami...Now, do the thing! Tears glistening in his eyes, Zatochi lowered the blade, making a kaishaku - the last strike. As he slashed, he cut the throat of Asano - and in a moment his head was attached to his body only by a slight band of flesh. The great general and longtime Foreign Minister has died with honor - and according to tradition.
Receiving the bloody Katana, Asano Yoshinaga continued to lead the remaining troops until the new commander-in-chief ordered them to leave the lines. Together with the blade he now carried grim memories - and dedication to prove himself worthy of his House and the legacy of his parent.
Ito Zatochi committed suicide soon when he reached Japan. As the servants of old, he did not want to live - when his master was gone.