The Distortion

There was a wooden bridge, a bridge that marked the proximal entrance to Shin-Taiyo. Laith frowned at the sight before him. There was no denying that this was a capital city, the immediate view of its grandeur left no doubt about it. Yet, he felt something was missing, something tall and huge that should be surrounding a capital.

“Isn’t it a bit weird that there are no walls or even guards protecting the perimeter of the city?” Laith asked his brother, their footsteps rapping against wood.

“It would have been weird had it been another country, but not here.” Adam replied, pushing back his glasses.

“How so?”

“Well, the current residents of Yamato never feared foreign invasions so they never bothered building walls around their borders or cities—the same approach was adopted before the Distortion as well.”

“That’s brave.”

“Mihad seemed to have benefited them in that regard as well. Geographically, they are fairly protected as a country. Proximally, the route by sea can be very long due to The Abyss, while distally, the Throat is very hard to cross due to its harsh geology.”

Similar to how he felt in Barka, Adam’s sense of nostalgia kicked in as he progressed through the streets. Adam did visit Japan once and had the opportunity to admire the traditional lifestyle, which was reminiscent of what current Yamato was. It was a memorable and valuable experience.

And he would soon realize how much more valuable it would prove to be.

His brother’s only knowledge of such landscape stemmed from his fascination with Manga and Anime. Thus, it was truly gratifying to take a stroll in the narrow streets of Shin-Taiyo and directly witness the scenery with his own eyes, and not just behind a screen.

A first element that would catch the eye was the exclusive use of wood in buildings. It came in all forms: planks, straws and paper, forming the walls, the doors and the roofs. The latter represented the second popping feature; massive, large and gently curved. The roofs easily constituted half of whatever edifice they covered, be it a house, shop, dojo or temple.

Laith couldn’t help but giggle when he saw a curved roof. It didn’t feel real to him for it always felt distant, so much so that it almost developed a mystical air. It hadn’t hit him that he was taking a stroll in the streets of Shin-Taiyo lit by the faint light of “andon”, specific lamps consisting of a burning oil protected by thin paper spanning a frame of bamboo.

Laith had yet to wrap his head around the fact that he was surrounded by walking Yamatojin donning their kimonos. They were throwing him and his brother strange glances—the way they looked and dressed was probably behind that—but no matter, he would shamelessly keep staring at them.

As the Distortion had it, Laith did meet Yamatojin on more than one occasion—he even learned to speak the language—but he hadn’t lived among them. Laith never experienced their lifestyle in all its flavor, so he’d better make the most of it while he could.

However, one detail tainted that beautiful picture: the aftermath of the battles clearly left its mark on the city as the signs of combat punched their way through walls and roofs. Entire structures suffered from the embers of a great fire, not to mention the puddles of blood smearing the ground. They were so gory they dried out before they could be fully wiped off.

After the Distortion, it was uncommon for cities to be damaged in the aftermath of a war. Battles were usually carried out in open fields. However, the exception to that rule was a civil war where conflict swallowed all in its path, sparing no castle or temple or residential areas.

Adam was reminded of how terrible the thought was, the thought of wanting to take advantage of such circumstances to achieve his own goal. Wishing destruction and slaughter upon people was cruel no matter your reason. It was a choice he was ready to live with but now, he was somewhat relieved that it was no longer the case, even if hard decisions and sacrifices would have to be made, eventually.

Surprisingly though, the people didn’t seem affected by it, for the overall mood was rather upbeat. It had been one month since the ceasefire was upheld, so perhaps the citizens were over it. The other likelihood pertained to their strong character. These were most likely people who witnessed a great deal of warfare before and after the Distortion. They didn’t grow entirely numb, but it hardened their spirits.

“Genjiro, sorry to bother you again but can you point us towards a place where we can stay the night?” Adam couldn’t delay resting his mind and body any longer.

“Yare yare, I didn’t expect I’ll be working as a guide today…what a hassle. Ah well, you did help me on the way here so I owe you one.” Genjiro agreed reluctantly.

“We promise we won’t bother you anymore.” Laith said.

“I doubt we’ll see each other again so I wouldn’t worry about that.”

* * *

“Tokugawa senseeeeeeeii, are you heeeere? It’s me, Genjiroooooo.” he shouted, in his usual tone, while knocking on a wooden door.

Sensei? This man has a sensei? He looks old enough to be one himself, Adam thought.

The door slide on the left joined the right one when it opened, and a woman in a blue kimono with straight black hair appeared. She should have been in her mid-forties—by Adam’s estimation—but neither the age nor the eye wrinkles took away from her beauty.

“Welcome Genjiro san, we were not expecting you at this hour, is something the matter?” the woman asked softly.

“Oh, it’s you Lady Tokugawa…yeah everything’s fine. It’s just a couple of foreigners looking for a place to stay. Is sensei here?” Genjiro asked.

It was still hard to get accustomed to what appeared to be his normal voice. The samurai always sounded dispassionate, nonchalant, indifferent…like he never cared about anyone or anything. Adam was baffled by it; how can someone constantly maintain such a lax attitude?

“I have to say I’m quite surprised that you of all people were able to lead customers in here, Genjiro.”

It wasn’t the lady who spoke. The rigid yet calm voice came from a bit farther back. It was a man who, unlike the other three facing him, was nowhere near as tall. His white kimono was slightly different from his wife’s, this one was clearly fashioned for men.

He wore a “chonmage” as his haircut, a shaved bald pate with the remaining greying hair—to the side and in the back of his head—tied into a small queue which was folded onto the top in the classic topknot. Adam presumed this was a senior samurai—potentially older than his father—with many years of experience under his belt.

“Good evening, Tokugawa sensei.”

And that was the first time Genjiro straightened up his voice, alongside his body, and didn’t sound like he was annoyed or bored. He proceeded to bend from his waist keeping a straight back with his arms held stiffly to each side of the body. He bowed in respect for his teacher.

Laith and Adam were taken aback at Genjiro’s sudden change of demeanor they almost forgot their manners.

“Good evening sir.” they greeted him at the same time with a simple nod.

“Good evening to you too good men.” Tokugawa and his wife greeted them back with a less formal bow than Genjiro’s. “I believe you have come searching for a place to stay the night, is that correct?” Tokugawa asked.

Both brothers nodded.

“I would simply like to let you know that is not an inn per say, it is merely a guesthouse. Does that bother you in anyway?”

“Not at all sir.” Adam said, shaking his head.

“Then please, do come in, the journey must have been long.” he then turned to Genjiro, “You too Genjiro, let me serve you some tea.”

“Another time maybe. Thank you, sensei, I will get going now.” he said before saluting his teacher and leaving.

When Adam and Laith first entered the house, they found themselves in a small hall where a cabinet could be spotted to the left.

“Would you care to take off your shoes?”

The two brothers did not argue with lady Tokugawa’s request, they were guests and they ought to respect the rules of the host. It was for the better too since their boots had suffered from the long journey. They put them in the cabinet and followed their hosts’ lead inside the house.

Just like the outside, the inside was exclusively made out of wood, even the floor they were walking on felt like straw and gave off a very distinctive scent. A veranda could be seen on the other side of the house.

“Please have a seat, my wife will make you some tea whilst I prepare your room. I’m afraid we don’t use chairs, I hope you don’t mind sitting on these mats.”

“It is of no concern Tokugawa san, we are grateful for your hospitality. We are your guests; it’s only natural that we abide by your rules.” Adam answered.

“Besides, this is not completely foreign to us.” Laith added.

Tokugawa raised an eyebrow. “Forgive me, but I am not sure I understand.”

“Well, most of our houses have similar features, the veranda, the mats on the floor and the overall intimate atmosphere is somewhat familiar to us. Despite the glaring differences between our cultures, we do share a fair amount of similarities.” explained Laith

“That is an interesting bit of information. Where do you come from?”

“The Furat sultanate.” Adam answered.

“Hmm…I am familiar with the name but that’s the extent of my knowledge.”

Tokugawa was having the conversation while changing the disposition of the house to make a new space for the two brothers to sleep. He was moving sliding portable doors made out of wood and thick papers to create a mini room. He called these particular doors “fusuma” and they allowed the inside of the house to have a flexible layout.

As soon as the tea was ready, the four of them sat at a low table, legs bent on the floor. Sipping tea was a nice way for Adam to calm his nerves after the hectic introduction to Yamato. That was until his brother interrupted that sweet and calm moment—of course he did…

“I’m curious Adam, what type of currency do they use here in Yamato?” Laith whispered to his brother. Now that they secured a residence, the question of payment popped up in his mind.

“You couldn’t figure that out on your own?” he looked at him disappointedly. “Seems like my theory is correct, all that muscle you gained cost you some neurons in the process.”

“Can you just answer the damn question and not be an asshole? Is that too much to ask?”

“Stop crying, it’s been ten long years since I could taunt you like this. Can’t you at least grant your big brother a simple wish?”

“Behi, behi…”

“Back to your question, can’t you draw a comparison to what you had back home? You did use bronze, silver and gold pieces with a hawk carved on them, right?”

Laith nodded.

“It’s no different here. They use similar coins only they have that sun drawn on the flags and banners we saw earlier carved on them. It’s a simple and quick way adapted by most countries to reestablish a monetary system after the Distortion.”

“I see…” Laith took a sip from his tea, drinking almost half of it. He quickly realized how inappropriate it was.

The common practice for the Yamatojin was to take your time while drinking tea, it was a highly-regarded ritual. The ceremonious nature of the act was further emphasized by the intricately crafted teapot as well as cups, both a fine display of ceramic art.

Laith’s embarrassment however didn’t stop there. Later on, when they had dinner, Laith struggled to handle the couple of chopsticks offered to him to eat his meal, a number of rice balls called “onigiri”. It may have been rice, but the way it was presented was confusing to him, not to mention the fact that he was used to spoons, forks and even his bare hands to eat, so the transition to chopsticks was a little tricky.

The most frustrating part, however, was watching his brother do it all with impeccable mastery, like he was raised here all along.

Is there something he can’t do or doesn’t know…?