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| Author | [Short-Story] Yoshitatsu – The Forgotten Bloodline |
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I wasn’t always like this. I wasn’t born a killer, but to say I had no choice would be a lie. Killing is a sport; assassination is an art. Anyone can kill, but to execute a flawless kill—a silent, untraceable death—takes skill. It’s a skill few ever master.
My name is Adrian Maisch, and I am the youngest assassin in the world. At just sixteen, I’m already a legend. Age is but a number; my knowledge eclipses the naïve wits of most adults. Don’t mistake this for arrogance. My story speaks for itself. To understand how I became this, we need to go back to the very beginning. Back to when I was abandoned. Back to when I learned survival is the sharpest weapon of all.
I never knew my mother. Not her name, not her face, not her voice. I was six when my father left me outside a grimy bar on the edge of town. “Wait here,” he said. Hours passed. Six, to be precise. Even as a child, I knew what had happened—he had finally mustered the courage to abandon me.
That night should have ended differently. Perhaps the bartender would have found me, or maybe some drunken soul would have taken me in. The horrors that might have followed are better left unimagined. But fate had other plans.
I sat there, staring at the headlights streaking by on the highway, when a sleek black car pulled up. The tinted window rolled down to reveal a woman with piercing amber eyes. She stared at me for what felt like an eternity. Then men appeared from the shadows, and before I could react, everything went black.
I woke up in an unfamiliar place, lying on a plush, warm bed. The room was vast, its obsidian walls reflecting a faint, polished sheen. Above the bed hung an impressive array of swords. Sitting beside me was the woman from the car.
"Adrian, how are you feeling?" she asked in a voice that was both commanding and oddly soothing. I didn’t answer. How did she know my name?
She studied me for a moment before speaking again. "You don’t remember me, do you? My name is Mizuki Kawakami. I knew your mother once. I never thought our paths would cross like this.”
For a fleeting moment, hope flickered. “Are you my mother?” I asked hesitantly.
“No,” she replied, her expression softening. “But I promised her I’d look after you. Starting tomorrow, you’ll begin your training.”
Mizuki didn’t give me answers, but she gave me a purpose. At dawn, she woke me and led me through grueling exercises designed to hone my flexibility, speed, and silence. For a year, I trained relentlessly, my curiosity about the swords on the wall gnawing at me. Yet, she never handed me a weapon.
One day, frustrated, I demanded to know why. She said simply, “Anyone can learn to swing a blade, but assassination isn’t about the weapon—it’s about mastery over oneself. Only when you’ve gained absolute control of your body and senses can you wield a weapon effectively.”
Her words ignited something in me. Day by day, I pushed myself harder. Mizuki began teaching me unarmed combat, each move precise, deliberate. One evening, she challenged me to land a single hit on her. For a week, I failed, her defenses impenetrable. But the day I succeeded, she smiled.
“Good,” she said. “You’re progressing faster than I expected. Let’s talk.” | We walked to a serene river near her estate. The air was crisp, the world eerily quiet. “This river,” Mizuki began, “is where I first met your mother. She was lost, injured, and being hunted by wolves. I saved her and nursed her back to health. That’s when I learned her secret.”
She paused, gazing into the water. “Your mother was a descendent of the Yoshitatsu bloodline, one of the oldest and most revered in Japan. They were not warriors but the teachers of warriors, the mentors of samurai. The Yoshitatsu are said to possess an innate ability to master any form of combat. Your mother carried that legacy, and so do you.”
Her words hit me like a tidal wave. “But where is she now?” I asked.
Mizuki’s expression darkened. “She’s gone. Sacrificed herself to protect you. She sent you away with your father to keep you safe. And when your father…” She hesitated. “When he couldn’t go on, he contacted me. That’s how I found you.”
Years passed, my skills growing sharper with each day. I learned to fight, to kill, but I had yet to face the true darkness of my path. That moment came the night our home burned.
The fire woke me. Chaos reigned as armed men stormed the estate. Mizuki fought valiantly, cutting through dozens of attackers, but there were too many. She ordered me to run, but I couldn’t leave her. I watched helplessly as she was overwhelmed and captured.
I tracked her captors to a heavily guarded mansion. Everything Mizuki had taught me was about to be put to the test. Silent as a shadow, I infiltrated the compound, dispatching guards one by one. Forty men fell to my hands that night, their bodies hidden in the darkness.
In the main chamber, I found her—Mizuki, bound and defiant, facing a man who introduced himself as Raidon Takahashi, leader of the Eagle Clan. He sneered as I entered. “Ah, the prodigy himself. You’ve made this far too easy.”
Raidon was a formidable opponent, wielding a blade with deadly precision. I had no weapon, only my training. I dodged his strikes, each swing of his sword leaving him more fatigued. When the moment came, I struck—first his leg, then his shoulder, and finally his face. He fell, and Mizuki, freed from her bonds, delivered the final blow.
Later, by the river, Mizuki told me the full truth. My mother’s bloodline was hunted for the power it represented. “Your mother loved you more than anything,” she said. “She fought to her last breath to ensure your safety. I failed her once, Adrian. I won’t fail you.”
Her words were both a burden and a gift. The Yoshitatsu bloodline carried a destiny—to cleanse the world of corruption and hatred. But when that task was complete, the power had to be sealed, never to be used again.
Years later, after fulfilling my family’s mission, I sealed the power within an amulet and hid it where no one would find it. Legend has it that one day, when darkness rises again, the amulet will call upon a new heir. And with it, the spirit of Adrian Maisch will rise once more. | | Do you plan to continue this? | Did not think of it. Do you think it could be interesting?
It's an older story I wrote a few years back, but never posted here. | | If you enjoy writing, feel free to post more of your content here. | | I used to write more but lost motivation recently. I want to get back into it, but seems like I don't have as many ideas anymore :( | | :( | | Adrian Maisch will rise again. He will be born in 3 days in my best friend's womb. It was an immaculate conception. |
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