It was around the time I turned ten that I made a melancholy discovery: the older I got, the more I missed Father being in my life. I didn't really exactly miss him so much- I was starting to forget him, and there were many days when I didn't think of him at all- but I suppose I missed having a close, older, male influence. Though I wasn't in any spot to put it in those sort of words. It's all very well to be on good terms with most of the older boys and men in one's town, but that doesn't help much when you really need to talk to someone and no one you know is quite the person you'd feel comfortable with. 

But quite apart from my personal side of it, I wished more and more that Father was there for Mother and Sayoko. It had become more than obvious that I couldn't take his place or even comfort my mother and sister much for the loss of him. Sayoko was still very prone to gloom, and Mother had to work far too hard- I had numerous bad dreams about her becoming ill again. Or worse. And if something did happen to Mother... well, as Sayoko had said, what would we do then? I was the son, I was supposed to do something, but I didn't know what, or how. Being young was no excuse. If I was supposed to be some great hero-protector, why couldn't I protect my own family? I wasn't any use; I hadn't been able to keep Father from dying or Mother from getting so sick; I hadn't been able to make Mother well again. I couldn't even help my sister feel happier, let alone provide for her and Mother like the heir should do. Clearly, I wasn't going to be any kind of anything at all. Even if there was an armor out there, which there probably wasn't, it wasn't for me. Someone else would find it, someone better than me. Anyway, it was just an old story- like Atlantis- and I should forget about it.

What sparked all that negativity was the abrupt realization of what death really meant, helped- in the most morbid sense of the word- by the small but significant loss of a little neighborhood cat that I used to feed almost daily. He got struck by a car one night and I found his body the next day. Some of the neighbor kids helped me bury the poor thing and I was miserable about it for weeks. Sayoko tried to console me by assuring me that Father would take care of my kitty for me, since they were together, and I think that's what did it. My little cat-friend had gone where Father was, and I wasn't ever going to see either of them again. I spent a lot more time on the beach after that, watching the waves and trying not to think about how useless and alone I felt. Schoolwork also helped me not think, but I didn't do too well at tennis anymore, and didn't care much.

It might have helped if I'd had a close friend to share things with, but being shy and not very social had resulted in most of my friends being of the casual and nodding-acquaintance sort. It takes a while to make a close friend in Japan anyway- people, even young, exuberant ones, tend to keep each other at a polite distance- so, not being exuberant or outgoing, I really didn't have the chance to bond with anyone except my sister. And Sayoko was so busy studying, helping Mother, taking care of things in the house, and so on that she didn't have nearly as much time for me as she used to. So I withdrew into my shell, like a little hermit crab, and tried to make the sea all the friend I needed. I suspect I had more luck at that than another child would have.

My one major rebellious fit came shortly after I turned eleven, during the spring semester of my fifth-grade year. I forget exactly how it happened; it was one of those conversations that starts off fairly pleasantly and gradually turns into something ugly. Mother had not been feeling very well and had stayed home from the store for several days, so I was seeing more of her than usual. It was on Saturday in May, I remember that, and she was sitting out on the back porch as I came home from another long walk up the beach. As I climbed up the stairs, she invited me to sit beside her on the lounge, and once I was settled, proceeded to tell me how much she wished I had more friends. "You need to be more open and outgoing with people," was the sum of her advice.

"You make it sound like such an easy thing," I replied ruefully. "It's really hard work for me, Mother. Besides, I don't want to be all forward and familiar. I don't like it, and kids who do that too much get disrespected a lot."

"I'm not suggesting you be too forward," Mother told me. "Just be more friendly to people and they'll be more friendly to you."

I shook my head and shrugged. "They won't, they aren't interested in me. And I'm not really interested in them, either. I mean, they're okay and everything, but..." I paused, trying to find some way to explain the dynamics of the classroom. There wasn't much of a caste-system in my school, but I'd already been mistaken for a snob once and didn't care to be mistaken for anything else unpleasant. At least as things were now, we all knew where we stood. "It's the- what do they call it- the status quo?" I asked after a moment. "Everything's balanced right now, but if I start doing things different, it's gonna throw everything off."

"And you don't want to change that, to make any effort to improve matters?" Mother asked. "You're not even willing to try and make better friends?"

"Mother-!" I complained. "I don't want to have to act all different just so some kids will think I'm more interesting! And I don't wanna get to be friends with someone and find out they were just acting, too. It's not honest. Shouldn't have to change and try harder and be different. Won't be friends with a make-believe, or turn myself into one either."

Mother was very quiet for a moment, not looking at me. "I see," she said at last, her voice calm. "I suppose I do understand that, but I think my son is very lonely. Perhaps this is inevitable. Perhaps your destiny has set you apart. At least there will be the other four, eventually- I have no doubt they will be strong friends to you, son."

I blinked at her, wondering what she was talking about at first. And then I remembered: the five warriors. I hadn't thought about the yoroi or the demons or any of that 'silly stuff' for months... and mainly what I remembered was my disillusionment with the whole legend. Discontent that she would mention it, I spoke before I thought. "I'm not five years old anymore," I said, rather rudely. "And I don't think I should tell myself I'm all great and special and everything; it's not very modest even if it's true, and when it's not true, it's really a bad idea. I- it...uh..." I faltered to a stop because Mother had pinned her gaze on me, and she looked more outraged than I had ever seen her. "I-it's true!" And suddenly, from nowhere, I was angry myself, angry enough to glare right back at her. What I was saying was true, and if she didn't like it, too bad. "I'm not a warrior!" I snapped. "I'm not anything, I'm just ordinary, and not very good at that, even! I can't fight, and I can't help people, and no old fairy-tale's going to change that." I paused a moment as my throat grew tight, and looked away. "I guess everybody wants their kid to be special and do wonderful stuff, and- and I guess some people just have to be disappointed when their kid isn't anything much!" And with that I shoved myself off the lounge, ran down the steps, and raced for my haven, the beach.

I didn't come back until after dark, and then only reluctantly. It was too chilly out to sleep on the beach, even if it had been an otherwise good idea, which it might not have been. Our little town was pretty safe, but not quite that safe. You get all kinds of travelers and odd folk passing through; most of them are harmless, but you never know. And then there were the trouble-finders, as I had taken to calling them- that gang of mischief-makers who simply couldn't resist playing the most juvenile pranks on whatever- whoever- they crossed paths with, oblivious to anyone's safety. Really, I think 'safety' was a concept they simply couldn't comprehend...

Ah, at any rate, night had fallen before I slowly walked up to the house and stopped at the steps. There had been times when I had not been all too enthusiastic about coming home, but this time it was not merely lack of enthusiasm, it was actual disinclination. If I'd had anywhere else to go, I would have done so. It's hard to describe how I was feeling, for I was feeling so many different and contradictory things that I couldn't really put a name to any of them. I didn't know what to expect once I went inside, either, and that made things worse. Mother might still be angry at my insolence; she might have told Sayoko, who would also be angry. Or she might simply lecture me on my poor manners, or she might be worried, which would get me a lecture from my sister... all of which would make me even more cross and sullen. And if by some chance she and/or Sayoko greeted me affectionately and gave me the 'all is forgiven' treatment, well, then I'd feel guilty. It was just possible one or both of them would try to persuade me that I really was 'special', too, and that I simply did not want to hear. I don't take well to persuasion when I'm upset.

Which is an indirect way of saying that once I set my mind, emotionally, it doesn't readily change. Not so much in stubbornness as basic self-honesty. The thing is, people often try to alter the way someone feels by addressing the feelings logically. And that simply doesn't work. Neither do opinions, for that matter. You can tell someone they're wonderful until your voice is gone, and you can list all the reasons why you hold that opinion, but if they don't feel like a wonderful person, they are not going to change their mind and believe you. At least, not with any sort of regularity, and they'll suffer a lot of doubt about it later.

Sorry, I seem to keep digressing. 

I finally did go inside, and as one might have expected, experienced an anti-climax. Mother had already gone to bed, and Sayoko was out at cram school and wouldn't be back for another hour. One of them had left me something to eat in the refrigerator; I didn't really want it, but I ate it rather than get a few pointed remarks sent my way about wasting food. Then I went to my room, closed the door, and read ahead in my English book. English was always good for getting my mind off things; it's such a crazy, irritating, amusing language.

No offense...

I was still in a bad mood the next day. I rarely get angry or grumpy, but when I do, it's difficult for me to break out of it. Mainly what I do is keep my mouth shut so the nasty commentary in my head doesn't escape, for at times like that, I have this awful tendency to get cynical and- well- not intolerant, but little things irritate me all out of proportion. Snappy, I guess, is the word. I sort of gritted my teeth and got through the day without incident, and walked home from school feeling relieved that Mother and Sayoko would not be there to ask why I was so cranky. 

Except that I was mistaken, because Mother was waiting for me in the kitchen when I walked inside. She was sitting at the table, sipping a cup of tea, and she looked both tired and thoughtful. I immediately asked if she was all right, my anger slipping away at the thought that she might be more unwell than we all thought. "I went to the store this morning," she replied calmly. "And I will be there this afternoon; but right now I am here. I wanted to talk with you. Are you still angry?"

I put my books down on the table, not sure what to say, and then heard myself ask in return, "Are you?"

She shook her head. "It angered me to hear you say that you did not believe the legend. But it...distresses me that you think so little of yourself."

I took a step forward, gripping the back of the chair. "Mother, I know who I am, and it's not anyone special. So how can I believe in any legend that thinks I'm going to turn out as some fantastic hero? I mean, I suppose some legends can have some truth in them, but not all of them- and not the part about me, for sure. I- I couldn't even do anything to...about Father, so- so how'm I supposed to do anything for Japan, or the world? I can't even make you better..." I bit my lip and sat down in the chair. Mother reached across the table and took my hands, giving them a little shake so I would look at her.

"My dear, of course you can't," she said very gently. "That's not your gift-"

"I don't have a gift!"

"Shin, everyone dies. Everyone. Your father died; I will die someday; and someday you will die too. You cannot stop that, my son. We all die, all in our appointed time. That is something not even the greatest warrior could fight, and win. Your father's life was doomed to be a short one, and I knew this when I wed him. But I loved him, and I was determined to have what I could, to make a life with him- however brief. That is not what the Five are for, it is not their task to save lives or heal wounds. Their task is very simple, though not easy: it is to keep the Demon Realm from conquering this world and enslaving humanity. That is all, Shin. It doesn't mean people won't die, and it certainly doesn't mean everyone will live a happy and healthy and carefree life afterwards. Probably not," she murmured, more to herself than to me. "Such a battle- there will be terrible destruction..."

I sat looking at her for a moment as her eyes went unfocused, then re-focused on me. "That- doesn't make sense," I insisted, my voice shaking a little. I had the most dreadful feeling of being slowly herded into a corner. "What kind of hero doesn't try to help people?"

"One whose first priority is the world upon which they live," my mother replied. 

"Oh, yes, that the demons are going to take over," I retorted, as sarcastically as I dared. Mother frowned at me.

"Is this the only world?"

"What?" I blinked, thrown off-balance by the strange question.

"Is this planet, Earth, the only world?"

"Well, no...?"

"And you have explored all the other, different worlds, in all their times and places? You can tell me for certain that there are no creatures on any of them such as resemble the demons of our legends?"

I blushed, as much angry as embarrassed. "Of- of course not..." I wanted to protest more, but I had a feeling I knew what she'd say if I mentioned space-ships: something along the lines of investigating all the different ways of traveling between worlds. 

"So there is a possibility that there are such creatures. The legends about them may be only stories, of course, but it is odd that these beings were described so completely, by so many different people who never met each other... You know that I sometimes see into the future, Shin."

"Yes; and you said that what you see is open to interpretation," I reminded her. I was definitely being herded into that corner, but I wasn't going to go quietly.

"That is true. But if I can look into the future- however it is interpreted- may there not be others with similar gifts? Mystics, in fact, who have trained their minds to do things that others might call magic?"

I didn't answer. 

"You are a skeptic, my son, so naturally you will have dismissed the artifacts and the written accounts as hoaxes. But-"

"What? I- what do you mean?" I was really floundering now.

"There are bits and pieces that have been unearthed in what used to be villages in and around Toyama," Mother explained offhandedly. "And written accounts that, while difficult to decipher, do mention men of metal and evil spirits and other such things that are spoken of in the legend. No one is quite sure what to make of them; some argue for this theory and some for that. But this family- we know the truth. We are perhaps the last family in Japan who now knows the legend of the Five. It is our duty to remember it, and to remember that it is true, though all others forget it or dismiss it as a fairy-tale. From my mother; from her father; from his father...back through more generations than we can now count, the truth has been carefully told and preserved. Because the time will come when this knowledge is needed, when one of the Mouri must find the armor of suiko and take up the battle." Mother paused, her eyes fixed on mine and her hands squeezing my fingers so tight it hurt. "It will be you, Shin-chan. You cannot avoid it by saying you don't believe it. If you do not find suiko, it will find you."

I pulled my hands free and turned away, shaking. Cornered. I heard Mother get up, felt her hand press lightly on my shoulder, and looked up in time to see her leave the room. I sat there for a long time, staring at the porcelain tea-cup on the other side of the table, the afternoon sunlight glowing on the wall, and struggled with my thoughts. With my fear. I didn't know how to fight. I didn't want to fight. The idea of a hero concerning himself with a world instead of individuals was a completely new one to me (too many comic books; they always hinge on individuals), and while it was fascinating, almost tempting, it seemed much too...big. The whole planet-! That was a huge thing to have to worry about! But on the other hand, the notion of being 'chosen' by mystical armor was extremely cool. If it was real... and Mother certainly seemed convinced that it was...

Maybe Mother was right. There might be such creatures, and they might want to take over Earth... and there would have to be special weapons to defeat them. But, good grief, alien invasion was hardly a new or original idea...or was that- that maybe-real-maybe-not-demon-invasion from so long ago- the source of all the alien movies and comics and cartoons and other nonsense one so often saw? Was that where the idea of creatures from other worlds had come from? It was true that there were other worlds... and it was true that there might be creatures on some of them....and that they might be able to do things humans couldn't...

After a while I gave up. I sighed, stood up from the chair, and took my books into my room to start my homework. Demons or no demons, armor or no armor, hero or not, I still had homework.

And that was how it was for the rest of that semester, until the summer break. Sometimes I thought Mother was right and the legend was true. Sometimes I didn't. I wondered what it would be like to be a hero, what it could be about me that would make any sensible armor choose me, when it might happen (if it did), and how. I must've run through a few dozen imagined versions of that, none of which, I may say, were anything like the reality. I also wondered just how one went about fighting a demon- it did sound pretty dangerous- and went to the library to try and look up what one could expect to happen when fighting a demon. The answer seemed to be pretty much anything, which was neither helpful nor comfortable reading and which resulted in another swing to the 'don't believe it' point of view. Really, it was absurd; if demons could really do everything it said they could, they wouldn't BE defeatable! Even with specially-made armor. Though really, the odds of five against one were so much better than one-to-one...

And so on. Mother didn't try to persuade me again...I guess she knew I'd get persuaded past all doubt eventually. 

I still wonder... if I had believed in the armor, maybe finding it- rather, being found by it- would have been a somewhat less traumatic experience. Then again, any prank those fools pulled was bound to have a very bad effect; it's hardly Torrent's fault things got out of hand. They weren't ever really in hand to begin with.

Of course, that was just one of many things I would have liked to talk about with Father- or with a sympathetic friend. There were others. But the suiko problem was certainly the most persistent one.