The rain was falling slowly on the black roofs, the wet streets were now the stage for a small group of merchants, covered in paper and cloth, while others were pitching their tents. In Sanchirudoren, the night heralds the arrival of the farthest travelers. The roads are quieter.
A small caravan has crossed the arches of the citadel, the horses hardly need any effort, the wooden wheels gliding over the bricks of the main street.
- Fresh fish, wild pig and hot drink! Come closer! - shouts a gentleman, his robes matching the red and blue hue of his store.
The rain continues to punish that night, a thunderclap is thrown into the sky.
Wearing black robes, and protected by his sugegasa, a man exposes himself to the rain, leaving behind the caravan in which he has been traveling. His gaze is protected by his straw hat, which causes the merchants some distress.
He walks towards the man who had announced his dishes for the day, or rather for the night.
- Where can I find a quiet place to sleep, I'm leaving tomorrow. - asked the man.
- For a few coins you can make yourself comfortable at old Han's inn. - said the man.
- Where I come from, everything I had stayed there. So did the few coins I kept.
His clothes were heavy, the rain was to blame.
- You could help me here at the entrance, I have received many who feel hungry, or wish to drown some of their thoughts in my drinks. It's not much, but I have a small place in the back of the store.
- That's enough - the man lifted his gaze, his hat revealing his calm gaze.
The hours rolled by, people of all kinds entered the small restaurant. The man attended to them, and as much as his clumsiness in greeting didn't get in the way, he received crossed glances. Nothing to be discouraged about.
- Hanzou, since when do you hire beggars? - shouted one man.
- Leave him alone, you're not much different.
The black-robed man did nothing, or even proclaimed.
Later, Hanzou returns to the entrance. Thanking the last customers who were leaving, his countenance was one of joy.
- You brought me luck today, kid. I haven't seen so many people like this since I moved here. - he said, putting his hand on his shoulder. - Come on, it's closing time.
- I don't know if it was luck, maybe you have great skills in the kitchen.
Hanzou felt a little more at these words.
- Tell me, what is your name?
- I haven't had a name for days, maybe months. They just call me Ryokosha.
- Well, let me introduce you to your quarters tonight.
They both walk through the main hall of the restaurant, some women in beautiful floral dresses arranging the plates on the tables. Reaching the back of the store, Hanzou opens the door.
- As I said, it's not much, but this old room should do. We used to keep some ingredients here.
You light a candle in the corner, the floor is wooden, one of the windows is not covered, only a piece of cloth protects it from the rain.
- If you feel hungry, there must be some fish left in the kitchen, make yourself at home.
They say goodbye, Hanzou pulls the door open. His footsteps are heard until they are far enough away. The man removes his hat, the straw is fragile.
- Everything seems to fall apart around me.
Leaning against the wall, resting his head on some sacks that have been left in place he falls asleep.
"The darkness prevails, a child stands up and soaked, his hands trembling, brought to his face as if trying to understand if what he had just witnessed was real. A light appears, slowly squeezing itself into that child's face."
He woke up, the sun had come through the window, and was bathing his face.
I was dreaming again.
- I must go on.
Standing up, he grabs his hat, quickly taps his now-dry but dusty robes.
- Mister Hanzou? - he shouts, as he walks out of that room.
- Hanzou? Are you still sleeping?
In the middle of the hall he shouts the name of the one who gave him a roof, even for one night.
- He must be... - his words are interrupted by a sharp fall, he had slipped on something.
Blood drips from the body of one of the girls who worked there, she is lying on the floor, her teeth broken by a great impact. Her torn robes reveal her cold whitish body.
- It's happening again, no! No! No!
Quickly he gets up, trying not to look at that girl, he turns his attention to the entrance door, to which he walks. His soapy hands make their way towards the outside.
In front of him three men are wielding swords. Their army uniform-like robes left no doubt. They were there to take him away.
- Walker, you are under arrest! How can you do such an atrocity to those who give you a place to sleep and eat? - said one of the men.
- I didn't do this!
- Your hands are covered with blood, a monster like you must be executed.
- Look at what you did to Hanzou! - proclaimed the other man.
The walker extends his gaze to a tree beside him, hanging by his neck is the body of Lord Hanzou, what is left of him. From the waist down he was gone, still dripping blood from his exposed intestines.
- I would never do that!
In the background the locals begin to come out of their houses, screams of a woman are heard, her desperation is felt by all.
- Get him! - said one of the soldiers.
The Walker, in a desperate act, runs through the streets of the city.
The population, now aware, throws stones, wood and objects in their disposition at him. The bricks in the streets are still wet from the rain, making him slip.
Some men gather around him, kicking him in the ribs and face.
The three soldiers approach, dispersing those men.
- Don't be like him! This man, I mean, this monster, will be judged by our Lord.
Two of the men carry him, weak and bruised, the wanderer finds himself dragged towards his destination.