Kodachijutsu, 小太刀術 — The Art of the Short Sword, By Dai-Shihan Jason Steeves

The Kodachi is a weapon that sits in a strange place—shorter than a Katana, longer than a knife. It's also known as a Shoto (short sword) or Wakizashi, which roughly means “side-inserted blade.” The word Kodachi itself translates as “short Tachi,” placing it historically in relation to the longer battlefield sword. Its blade is usually under 60cm (about 23.6"), making it compact enough to wield in confined spaces or indoors.

One practical feature of the Kodachi was the reverse hook on its scabbard. This hook caught on the belt when drawing one-handed, preventing the whole Saya from sliding out. It’s a small detail—but one that reveals the mindset behind the weapon: fast, practical, and meant for sudden, decisive action.

In the Bujinkan, Kodachijutsu isn't just about sword work—it's rooted deeply in the idea of Muto Dori, or "no-sword capture." Even with a blade in your hand, you move as if you're unarmed—flowing, adapting, and not relying on the weapon to do the work for you. The sword becomes an extension of intent, not a crutch.

“The Kodachi has no form with it. It is very important when you teach or when you are taught that you understand these points…” – Masaaki Hatsumi

This quote from Hatsumi Sensei sets the tone. The Kodachi isn't defined by rigid Kata. In fact, forcing it into fixed patterns misses the point entirely. It’s meant to be fluid and adaptable, shaped more by strategy and mindset than choreography.

In martial arts circles, there's a common trap—equating the value of a system with how many techniques it includes. People shop around, collecting styles or forms like trophies. But as Hatsumi warns, this collector mindset leads nowhere. What matters is not the number of movements you can perform, but how deeply you understand the nature behind them.

“…In the end, I came across a very good Sensei, and that was Takamatsu Sensei, and then I stopped becoming a collector… I became a martial artist.”

This shift—from collector to martial artist—is crucial. Kodachijutsu is not about memorizing variations. It’s about presence, adaptability, and depth. It rewards those who study not just with their bodies, but with their minds.

“It’s very important to look at martial arts from an anthropological point of view… more so the philosophy of it as a human rather than as a martial artist.”

This is a recurring theme in Hatsumi’s teachings. Don’t just train. Observe. Study history. Question assumptions. The goal isn’t to become a technician—it’s to become a thinking warrior, someone who understands not just how to move, but why those movements evolved in the first place.

And there’s a reason this message matters. Many Dojos—even traditional ones—fall into the trap of becoming performance halls or belt factories. You move up because you put in the hours, not because you’ve understood anything deeply. Hatsumi saw this pattern even in the Japanese university system, where education was becoming more about credentials than substance.

“I now have three doctorates, so everyone please study hard. This is a very important point. First of all, I would like all of you to become anthropologists.”

In other words, approach your training like a scientist. Study. Question. Seek substance over appearance. This is especially relevant in arts like Kodachijutsu, where the techniques are subtle and built on principles that go beyond simple mechanics.

“So over the next two years, the people in the Bujinkan who don’t actually have any ability will gradually… disappear. I feel that I don’t need a lot of students. Everyone should also have this same attitude.”

It’s a sobering statement—but a necessary one. Not everyone is meant to walk the same path. Quality matters more than numbers. You don’t need a crowd to grow as a martial artist. You need sincerity, honesty, and time on the mat.

“The most important thing is to remember that you are the one who is trying to learn from what you are doing.”

Kodachijutsu is not about copying someone else's form—it’s about discovery. You have to learn from the act of training itself, not from what someone else hands you. That means making mistakes, testing limits, and constantly refining.

“Because I have a knighthood, I can say this, but, first of all, you should look at knights…”

Here Hatsumi draws a parallel to the old knights of Europe—warriors who trained in private, not in packed Dojos. True martial training wasn’t about mass instruction. It was personal. Focused. Grounded in real survival. In Japan, it was the same: Samurai served someone; Ronin taught anyone who’d pay. If your goal is depth, not business, then your Dojo doesn't need to be full—it needs to be honest.

“It’s not necessary to do any unnecessary form of study. If you do that, then you might go off on a bad angle; lose track of yourself.”

The warning here is clear: don't get lost in distractions. There's a lot of noise in the martial arts world—videos, tournaments, styles, forums. If you let that overwhelm your path, you’ll forget why you started in the first place. Watch the videos, yes. Read the Sanmyaku. Learn from Tai Kai footage. But most importantly—train in person, with real teachers, in real time.

“That’s why it’s very important to come at least once a year to visit me.”

This isn’t just about loyalty—it’s about alignment. Seeing the source. Reconnecting to the deeper roots of the art. No video can replace that.

“I feel within the next five or six years that everything will be okay in the Bujinkan…”

This confidence comes from seeing growth—not in the size of the organization, but in the quality of its leaders. The message to those training today: don’t chase belts, or trends. Chase clarity. Chase understanding. If you’re training Kodachijutsu, understand that it’s not a form-based system—it’s a principle-based weapon. The techniques flow out of the strategy. Not the other way around.

And maybe the most important message of all:

“The important thing here is to be able to destroy what you've been doing (your form), which is the same as destroying the enemy. The better you destroy yourself, the more you can destroy what the enemy has. You can destroy the enemy if you destroy yourself.”

To grow in Kodachijutsu—or any part of Budo—you have to tear down your habits, assumptions, and ego. Only by letting go of fixed form can you respond in real time. When your movement becomes natural, your strategy becomes invisible. And that’s where true power begins—not in form, but in freedom.

To learn the entire Kodachijutsu material, you can find it in our Total Force online course HERE, or the forthcoming book with the same name!