Yutaka, the Elusive Archer

The country izakay tavern smelled of cheap sake, stale fish, and poverty. Peasants drank here, for whom the strength of the drink was much more important than exquisite taste. Sometimes the ronin came to the tavern to drink the coins received from the employer, and the village youth killed time. Just the youth – very young kitsune – were the main source of noise that evening. They arrived at the izakay shortly before sunrise, started with thin rice beer, skipped the sake stage, and now were piling on shochu. It is not surprising that the conversation between the foxes went on raised tones.

– Eah, from a hundred paces I’ll hit the ri … hic! … ce grain with an arrow! – One of the kitsune was gesticulating with might and main, imitating archery in a fit of drunken boasting.
– Ha! Yutaka, you won’t land a bowl into mouth now. – The youngsters, heated up by drinking, clearly provoked a comrade. – Where is the rice grain!

– Argh you!!! I am … – The fox, who was called Yutaka, climbed onto the table, removed a leather pouch from his neck and shook it so that everyone around could hear the jingle of coins. – I bet my monthly sa … hic! .. lary that I will shoot a torch standing at the other end of the field! Someone bring me a bow and arrow!

A bow, a huge bamboo wakyu, and arrows were found in a visiting ronin. The torch was removed from the wall of the izakay. To see how the braggart would shoot, all the visitors poured out to the edge of the field and, it seems, half the village came running. Yutaka spread his legs wide, with a smooth movement he laid an arrow on a hemp bowstring-tsura, barely perceptibly moved his ears, estimating the speed and direction of the wind …

… onlookers froze …
… took the plumage of the arrow to the level of the back of the head, squinted, held his breath …
– Hic!

The string slipped from the kitsune’s fingers, flicked painfully on his nose. The arrow flew into the night sky. The crowd erupted in laughter, whistling and hooting. The ridiculed unfortunate archer threw a bag of coins at his comrades, lowered his nose cut by a bowstring to the ground and disappeared into the darkness.

The city dojo smelled of fresh wood, sharp steel, and sweat. Yutaka entered the yard, looked at the sensei who was watching the trainees, walked up to him and fell on his knees:
– I ask you, master, to teach me the art of kyudo. I swear to be the humblest of your students.

The old kitsune looked at the young man prostrated in the dust, grunted through his gray mustache, straightened the folds of the kimono and called out to one of the wards:
– Hikaru! Give this tramp a bow and three arrows. – Then he turned to Yutaka. – Get up. Do you see makiwara? If you hit her with all the arrows, you will embark on the noble path of kyudo. If you miss even once, look for another sensei.

Yutaka bowed, accepted Hikaru’s bow and arrows, turned to the straw bundle, and fired the first shot. The arrow pierced through the center of the sheaf. The second entered a palm above the first, and the third smeared along the edge of the makiwara. The young kitsune held his breath, waiting for the dojo master’s decision.

– Well. I see you’re not completely hopeless. Maybe you’ll get the use of it. Go wash up, change your clothes, and then Hikaru will show you what Kihontai is. At the same time, he will remember the basics before the tournament. Look what you thought, drag yourself to the province of Takagi, bow to the goblin prince … – The old teacher grumbled the last phrase under his breath.

The gaijin field camp smelled of blood, dirt from the Continent, and bad intentions. It was in this camp, according to the report of scout Shun, that one of the field commanders of the aliens was located. Thanks to the same Shun, Yutaka knew exactly the number of warriors in the camp and their patrol routes. The problem was that the patrol went in twos. But it was not in vain that the fox beat his fingers to blood in kyudojo. As it was not in vain, he later studied the art of the ninja in a secluded monastery in the mountains.

Yutaka merged with the night shadows, as lovers merging in ecstasy, waited for the first pair of patrolmen to appear on the wall and estimated the trajectory of the shot. The nuance was to hit two goblins at the same time, but they were higher than the shooter, the arrow would fly up. The archer chose an elegant solution to the problem: an arrow plunged into the base of the neck of one of the gaijin, its tip went under the jaw on the other side and pierced the skull of the second patrolman.

Something whistled past Yutaka. Damn! Apparently, the archer from the second patrol deviated from the route to take a piss, saw an arrow flying out of the shadows and fired back. Luckily, he was too dumb to sound the alarm at first. The fox jumped out of cover to get out of the possible path of the second arrow, and in a jump he lowered the bowstring. The goblin patrolman collapsed into the grass with feathers in his eye.

By morning, the gaijins found the corpses of ordinary soldiers and their commander. A tiny grain of rice was tied to the shaft of each arrow.