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"In one consort there sat cruel revenge
and rancorous despite, disloyal treason
and heart-burning hate."
- Spenser

ROKU : THE CLOSING CIRCLE

CHIHAYA VILLAGE, JAPAN
JUNE 9TH, 1969

“Is there no one willing to challenge me anymore? No one at all?"

Eighteen year-old Oroku Saki stood sweaty and shirtless, his long Shadow Warrior’s braid draped over his shoulder from his closely-shaven scalp. Saki paced like a tiger in the training room, every measured, menacing step he took making the other Foot trainees increasingly nervous. "Disappointed I am," he thundered, his voice heavy with authority, "greatly disappointed."

One of the dogi-jumpsuited Foot trainees, Yui, gave a shout and charged at Saki from the sidelines. Like clockwork, Saki parried his fellow trainee’s jabs, sweeps, and roundhouses, finally reversing an attempted throw and using Yui’s own momentum to hurl him back to the others in a heap.

"Not bad… but I hunger for a true challenge."

A challenge, yes, but first and foremost… vengeance.

OSAKA, JAPAN
JUNE 12TH

The Foot Sentry, Kuni Utagaki, smiled as he examined the generous sum of yen notes the youth from the Chihaya training grounds had given him for his services, then slipped them back into his side pocket. He would receive the other half when he returned.

"Don’t know where he got all that money, but I know where I’m going to spend it…" Visions of more than a few nearby select Osakan bordellos danced through Utagaki’s mind after he made one short stop.

Casually, he approached the two business suit-clad Elite Guard posted by the gated doors of the Ojimishu Estate, the building itself a front for one of the Foot Clan’s largest strongholds outside of Tokyo. As he got closer, he put on his best act, moving with a good balance of urgency and alarm.

"What is it, Sentry?"

"I come with grim news that must be brought to the Faceless One’s attention at once!"

"Speak."

"The Bladed One… he seeks to kill the Faceless One and usurp his place as head of the Council of Eight! He tried to recruit me as well as others… I was the only one to turn him down—now I fear for my life!"

The two Elite Guard looked at him with skepticism. It didn’t matter whether they believed him or not—he had his money either way. "I will see that the Faceless One is notified. This meeting never took place… return now, Sentry."

There, Utagaki thought with satisfaction as he headed back the way he came, I held up my end of the bargain…

As the sun sunk beneath the horizon Kuni Utagaki was well on his way back to Chihaya Village down a back, cobble-road. The afternoon had brought him many pleasures, and he was returning with little of the money he had carried into Osaka.

Utagaki stopped dead in his tracks, hearing a slight thrashing in the nearby brush.

"Boy? Is that you?"

"It is. And I come with the other half of your payment…"

When the young Oroku Saki dashed out of the brush he passed, Utagaki could do nothing to stop the tanto dagger the youth held from piercing his heart.

CHIHAYA VILLAGE, JAPAN
JUNE 14TH

Oroku Saki appeared out of the changing room, now clad in the black clothing the Faceless One’s aides had given him. He had his thin jacket, hakama pants, tabi, headband, and belt. He had his leggings, separate sleeves fitted from elbow to the back of his hands, quilted groin protector, and a quilted body protector. Saki found there were numerous pockets and compartments in his garb used to conceal the shuriken, garrotes, caltrops, and lock picks he now had at his disposal.

"You understand why I have summoned you, Oroku Saki?"

Saki nodded and bowed. His work had been masterful…if the Foot Sentry’s warning to the Elite Guard had not convinced them that the Bladed One was planning to assassinate The Faceless One, then the Foot finding the Foot Sentry dead after delivering the warning would. They would think he was killed by the Bladed One or his minions for spreading Saki’s carefully falsified story. "Hai."

"Good. Now choose your weapons."

In the darkness of the Faceless One’s meditation chamber, lit only by the candles at the far dais, Oroku Saki’s hands first danced over a set of daisho—a katana sword and the shorter wakizashi, then a straight-edged, yet shorter ninjato sword. As he had practiced the fighting art of budo and kendo many times since his training had begun, he felt a certain level of confidence that his mastery of the sword was nearly at its peak. Yet it was not either or both of the daisho that he found himself drawn to, but an even longer, more elegant blade.

"Ah, my personal tachi sword. I see you have good taste, young Oroku Saki. Take it, then."

Saki unsheathed the tachi from its scabbard, admiring it from the hilt to the perfectly forged tsuba. Taking it out, he made a few choice, skillful strokes into the air. He found it a perfectly balanced weapon, one ideal for the task before him.

"You are the one chosen to carry out this task, Oroku Saki. On this night you will be my personal ninja; my assassin in a matter of honor. Go now with bushido."

Saki bowed respectfully. "Your will be done, Faceless One."

"Do not fail."

The Faceless One must have known Saki’s connection to The Bladed One, known at least that The Bladed One had assassinated both Saki’s father and sister. Whether or not The Faceless One knew Saki knew The Bladed One had been the killer, Saki did not know. Perhaps it was a small favor from the Faceless One; a chance for Saki to avenge Miko and Kenshin. "I will not."

2 MILES OUTSIDE OF CHIHAYA VILLAGE, JAPAN
JUNE 16TH

The campfire that had given off the telltale smoke against the moonlit sky was smoldering by the time Oroku Saki located its point of origin in the woods.

"Driven into hiding, Bladed One?" Saki spoke. The builder of the campfire was found crouching beside it, only half asleep. "A pity your trail was so easy to track, would you not say?"

The Bladed One’s silhouette could be seen slipping on his helmet against the campfire’s glowing embers. He turned then to face Saki as he stepped into the light of the fire, rage in his eyes. "You…it was you, Oroku Saki! You framed me for trying to assassinate the Faceless One, gaijin!"

Oroku Saki ignored the man’s words. He took a battle pose, drawing his elegant tachi from its scabbard on his back. "That kanji symbol you wear on your armor... death, is it?"

The Bladed One gave a short grunt. "I would be... only too happy to show you, if you wish."

Saki smiled. His vengeance—his absolution—was so close now... so close he could taste it. He was better than the Bladed One now, he simply knew it. "I offer you a chance to redeem your honor, baka," Saki spat. He suggested without saying, of course, the ritual seppuku suicide. "Do you accept?" He knew he wouldn’t.

The Bladed One’s hand slowly went to his back, gingerly drawing a six foot-long, two-handed no-dachi sword. Assuming a battle pose, the man narrowed his eyes at Saki. "I will kill you... I should think as easily as I did your foolish father and weak sister. Did you think I did not know your connection to them?" He grunted, his version of a laugh. "Miko, was it...? Yes, I think so. Did you know she died squealing like a pig, boy?" That grunting laugh again. "I never forget a mission, boy. Never."

Oroku Saki felt his muscles rippling at the wretched man’s words. "If you only knew... how long... I have waited for this..." It was all he could do to keep emotions at bay, his attention solely on the task at hand.

With that, the two enemies rushed at each other, swords poised, raised, and ready. With the resounding sound of their swords clashing together, it began.

An hour had passed by the time one of the Faceless One’s pages found the Bladed One in the woods. The page’s jaw dropped as he saw the Bladed One standing there in silence, holding the helmetless, decapitated head of Oroku Saki by the hair.

"The Bladed One…?"

Several moments of uneasiness passed before the bladed figure gave his answer. "No… I am not the Bladed One… not the dishonored Ujimitsu Nonomura." The figure of the Bladed One reared around to face the page.

Very quickly the page realized that it was not, in fact, the Bladed One that the page was looking at, nor was it Oroku Saki’s head the figure was holding. That was Oroku Saki in The Bladed One’s armor, wearing the Bladed One’s helmet… and holding the Bladed One’s dripping head.

"The Bladed One died by the sword in honorable combat… it was bushido. It was more than he deserved." Oroku Saki dropped the fallen man’s head to the ground then took off his samurai-like helmet, beholding it with a certain sense of awe. Finally, he put it back on. "I… I am the Shredder."

The boy who hid in terror from the wrongdoing in his life had become the man with the courage and strength of will to set the wrong things right. As a symbol of what he had avenged and the dark victory that had freed his tortured soul, he would embrace and become that which he had hated.

TOKYO, JAPAN
JUNE 17TH

The Faceless One loomed as a statue over him, the Council of Eight sitting cross-legged on both of his sides and the legendary man’s teenage daughter, Karai, just behind him. The name of the honored jonin was unknown and unimportant—the mere image of him was enough for anyone, let alone any member of the Foot Clan that knew of the man’s decorated past and ancestry.

"Oroku Saki, you have proven yourself," the Faceless One spoke to Saki, who humbly knelt before the man. "Though you are only eighteen, you are our most cunning assassin and an able leader. Therefore, we have chosen you to go to the United States and head the New York branch of the Foot."

"Your faith in me is well placed, jonin," Saki spoke evenly, standing and bowing. "I will serve the Foot well in America."

The jonin nodded. "That is what I wanted to hear. Go now, young Saki. Do your brethren proud."

And he would. The Faceless One again presented him with a chance to avenge his family—this time complete it. But first…

KYOTO, JAPAN
JUNE 20TH

"Yes, who is it?"

As Yoichi Minya opened the front door in her kimono, she found Oroku Saki, suited in a formal-looking black business suit, kneeling on her porch. His head was lowered and he had one hand conspicuously behind his back.

"Saki!" she exclaimed, gasping as she realized who it was. She was older, of course, but looked every bit as beautiful as Saki remembered so long ago. "The Last time I saw you we… we…"

"We were children," Saki finished. He raised his head and presented her with a bouquet of flowers he had spent the previous day picking all across the Honshu countryside. "Minya… my love," Saki spoke softly. As a child he hadn’t understood the meaning of what those words meant, but now he understood wholly. Throughout the entire course of his training in Chihaya she had been the one good thing; the one bright spot in the back of his mind.

Minya took the bouquet as he stood, kissing his cheek. "I’ve missed you so much, Saki! God—it’s been years!"

"A decade. A decade I want us to make up for." Saki reached into his business coat and pulled out a small jewel case. Taking her hand, putting the case in it, and closing her hand around it, he waited until she opened it and saw the diamond ring inside before speaking, "Yoichi Minya, will you be my wife?"

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