For Kangnam, the fact that he could be a ninja meant many things.

 

One, he could find a religion to believe in. After the disaster at the palace, he desperately wanted to have a subject to believe in, and this was certainly a chance for him to escape the past.

 

Two, he could also have a future. This job seemed hard, but he could have something to keep him occupied. Before, he was a ne'er do well, stomping around in the alleyways of Hanseong and beating the hell out of shrimps who even dared to come close.

 

Three, he felt that something was inside his body, inside his mind, screaming to be let out. And later, he would find out that it was me. The Dreamstrike. Yasuo Namekawa.

 

As I have said before, I am telling the story of "past" Kangnam, and I am the... horror that has taken control of him. I am him, yet he is not me.

 

Like a parasite, the Dreamstrike has already consumed him. But all this is already irrelevant.

 

Back to the story.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kangnam was standing in front of the temple, and he was shivering from the cold. It was early morning, and though all the recruits were aligned perfectly, Kangnam couldn't help but let out a sneeze.

 

He glanced at the centre of the square. There were five black robed men standing near the gates, each armed with some strange weapons. He gulped. He knew from street experience that these people were the ones you did not want to mess with, the people that ate nails for breakfast and probably would have you for dessert.

 

He saw Sungjae beside the men, also draped in a black cloth. His eyes now looked murderous, and any ounce of his tricky character was now gone.

 

"Step forward, new faces." The man in the middle whispered. His features were gaunt and hollow, and he carried a large bola in his hand. The bola was a steel chain, with a metal ball at each side. His arms and legs were covered with spikes and weapons, but somehow, Kangnam did not think that he needed them.

 

Three of them stood forward, Kangnam standing in the far edge. Sungjae had only given Kangnam one shuriken, one throwing star to arm himself. And so, as the man stepped forward, Kangnam started to tremble.

 

"I am a ninja." The man enunciated clearly yet softly. "You... are not. Not yet. Not when you have an ounce of doubt in your hearts."

 

"I have had many apprentices." The man continued. "28 of them. Now there are only four left. They have not yet served their purpose. Let me tell you the history of the Kyoto ninjas.

I sent 12 of my best, to the northern lands to battle. They sacrificed their lives. In return, they left nearly ten thousand dead. Without any help. Then, five years later, 6 more exchanged their lives for an assassination of a famous general. 6 more died together with the majority of Kamakura. They paved the way for the Emperor. The way of the ninja is slow and painful, but if you follow it with every step, your life will not be lost without meaning. History may not remember you, but the most important thing is that real sacrifice will be exchanged with something worth the price. This is the spirit of the Kyoto ninjas."

 

The other four stepped forward and knelt. "Sensei, tell us our next mission."

 

"I am old. You four are too. You have apprentices. Now your apprentices will teach what they have learnt. I hope that they can help give birth to a new batch of the finest warriors in Japan." The old man said. "They may follow the ninja code. It is our honour to die. It is our duty to protect our cause with our lives. They must be trained to throw away any spirit, any religion, any belief, any weakness. We must have perfect warriors."

 

Some of the recruits began to shiver, and Kangnam began to tremble. He had experienced fear before, but this was new. This wasn't fear. This was a feeling similar to... respect. An utmost respect and awe.

 

And  Kangnam knew, somehow, that history would change because of his stay here. He swore he would become stronger, to avengehis loss in Hanseong. Once a boy, now a teenager.

 

He braced himself for his training.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Hallo." A recruit approached him shyly after the apprenticing. She had long flowing hair, a lithe figure and a sweet smile, which did not match with the small knives in her hand. "What's your name?"

 

Kangnam hesitated for a moment. He did not want to get distracted, yet he felt an urge to know more about this girl. She seemed quite ordinary, compared to the older ninjas. They seemed like they'd eat steel nails for breakfast. And lunch.

 

Kangnam heaved a deep breath. "I am Kangnam."

 

"Ooh, a Korean!" The girl's eyes lit up. "I've always wanted to meet a Korean. Is it true that religion is allowed in that country?"

 

"Uh, yeah." Kangnam said. "Why ask?"

 

"Because it's forbidden to believe in anything except the authority; which is the monarchy." The girl explained. "It's nice to know that religion and freedom exists in another country."

 

"Japan seems strict and forbidding. I like the scenery here, but I don't quite like the people." Kangnam said.

 

"Oh. That’s very understandable. But it makes us seem more civilised than the Chinese or the Russians, doesn't it?" The girl replied.

 

"I think so. When I went on the ship with a couple of Chinese people, all they would do was to smoke big fat cigars in the hull of the boat. Kangnam recalled. "And all the Russians would do was compare their prices of bearskin and wolfskin."

 

"And we talk about seafood." The girl giggled. "Lots of seafood."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sungjae watched all of this with notable interest. Lips curled up, he walked back to the square. Anyone would think that he was happy for his apprentice.

 

Only the sharp-eyed ones would notice the whitening of his knuckles around his katana.

 

Behind him, clouds gathered and the sky started to darken.

 

It looked like a storm was coming.