A sharp sound cracks through the air as two katana clash, the shockwave rippling across the empty street. Sparks dance from the contact. Reiji's grin fades as he staggers back, shocked by the force behind Satoshi's blade.
Satoshi stands upright, his breath slow, deliberate. His eyes—no longer black, but glowing gold—reflect the glint of steel. In his vision, crimson slash marks illuminate Reiji's body, as if painted there by an unseen hand. His limbs move without his will, driven by something buried deep within.
Reiji grits his teeth, parrying a vicious downward slash. But Satoshi is relentless. Each blow is aimed with terrifying precision, targeting the glowing red lines only he can see.
Musume, clutching her bloodstained kimono close, stares wide-eyed from behind a fallen cart. She can hardly breathe, watching the two swordsmen exchange furious strikes with inhuman speed.
"The hell?" growls the gang leader. He turns to Reiji, his tone cocky. "You need help, Reiji?"
Reiji grins through his struggle, barely deflecting another savage strike. "I'll ask for help when my limbs are torn, my head flung wild, and my heart pierced ou—"
Before he can finish, Satoshi lunges forward, blade sweeping down. Reiji screams.
The katana slices clean through his right forearm. The severed hand, still gripping his sword, thuds to the ground. Blood fountains out, painting the stone street red.
Reiji stumbles back, wide-eyed, unable to comprehend what just happened. His breath catches. One moment he was whole, and now...
Another flash. Satoshi swings toward his neck, but—
"Satoshi!" Musume steps forward.
Satoshi's eyes flicker. The golden glow fades, returning to black. His body trembles, suddenly heavy. Dizziness crashes into him like a wave. He stumbles, nearly falling.
Musume's talisman pouch glows faintly. She gasps, then rushes to him and wraps her arms around him from behind. Her kimono squelches wetly from the blood it absorbed.
Reiji, still kneeling, stares dumbly at his severed limb, blood pooling beneath him.
The other gang members panic and bolt—only to be met by the arrival of several elite guards, blades drawn. They quickly subdue and arrest the criminals.
"You the one who caused this mess?" a stern-faced guard asks, eyeing Satoshi.
Satoshi, still reeling, just nods.
"How the hell did he beat them?" whispers one guard. "Is he stronger than the palace elites?"
Another soldier approaches, out of breath. "Lady Musume! Reinforcements took time to arrive—please allow us to escort you to Lord Kishiyama."
Musume clings to Satoshi. "I... I won't leave him."
Satoshi clears his throat. "I guess... you should take her away."
"You too," the guard replies. "You saved a noblewoman from assault. Lord Kishiyama wishes to thank you in person."
'How did news travel so fast?' Satoshi thinks.
"Musume," he says softly.
She looks up, teary-eyed.
"Let's go."
---
The capital's Imperial Palace looms tall, a fortress of white stone and red-tiled roofs. Golden dragon banners flutter in the wind. Guards in lacquered armor patrol every path, their spears gleaming.
Satoshi and Musume, now cleaned up and escorted by royal guards, approach the main gates. The metal doors are massive and adorned with carvings of lions, cranes, and lotus flowers. The moment the escort calls out their presence, the gates groan open with a deep creak.
Inside, the palace corridors are lined with silk banners and polished wood floors that reflect candlelight. The walls are decorated with intricate paintings of past emperors, mythical beasts, and the sacred trees of the Empire.
As they walk deeper into the palace corridor, four figures approach from the opposite side. Each is dressed in formal sokutai robes of black and indigo, their wide sleeves and flowing hems embroidered with silver-script sutras that glint faintly beneath the lantern light. Tied at their waists are ceremonial cords, and at their sides hang bundles of folded ofuda charms.
Their faces are covered by pristine white nō masks—blank yet serene—with thin red cords crossing over the eyes like sacred seals.
"How do they see…?" Satoshi murmurs.
Each figure moves with solemn grace. One carries a staff adorned with paper streamers and bells, another holds a lacquered scroll case bound with golden twine. An old scent of sandalwood trails behind them as they pass—like incense burned at a shrine.
"They're imperial onmyōji," Musume whispers, her voice low with reverence. "They serve the Emperor directly."
As they draw near, the first figure gives Musume a slight bow—a subtle gesture of respect between practitioners of the sacred arts—before continuing on in silence.
Eventually, the guards lead Satoshi and Musume to a towering door carved with intricate deigns.
The doors open.
Inside is a dim hall, lit only by scattered candles. Despite it being morning, no natural light seeps in. The air is thick with incense and something older—ancient. Near the candles are a pair of golden lion statues. One lion sits regal, it's gaze piercing. The other clamps it's jaws around a wild boar
Lord Kishiyama Yamamoto steps out from the shadows. He wears a layered kimono of indigo and gold, a fox-shaped spirit talisman hanging from his waist.
"Welcome," he says, smiling graciously. "You must be the young man who saved my sister-in-law."
Musume finally lets go of Satoshi.
"Where's my sister?" she asks.
"Likely in your favorite garden, watering the lilies," Kishiyama replies. "You should see her—and change your clothes."
Musume nods. She bows to Satoshi. "Thank you... for everything."
Satoshi awkwardly scratches the back of his head. "Uh... sure."
She leaves. Sunlight flickers through the door briefly before vanishing.
Kishiyama approaches the lion statue. "Do you know what this represents?"
Satoshi squints. "It looks... regal."
"It is my spirit animal," Kishiyama says. "Everyone has one, i am sure you have a fearsome one too"
He turns to Satoshi. "Now, about your reward."
"Oh no, I don't ne—"
"Don't say that," Kishiyama interrupts. "Everyone needs something."
"Then... let me hold onto this favor. I don't know what I need yet."
Kishiyama nods approvingly. "Smart. Very well. Come."
He leads Satoshi into another chamber, pitch black. Kishiyama pulls out a parchment etched with sacred calligraphy.
He throws it into the air.
The talisman bursts into flame—and suddenly the room ignites with fire. Thousands of candles around the room roar to life.
Before them is a towering statue carved from obsidian: a deity with three serene faces, each turned in different directions—past, present, and future. Dozens of arms spiral out from its sides, each holding a different item: a lotus flower, a broken sword, a flame, a scroll, a weeping eye. Around its neck is a garland of paper talismans.
Satoshi gasps. A terrible pressure slams into him. His chest aches. His eyes throb. His knees buckle.
All he can feel is death. A choking, overwhelming closeness to the end.
He collapses.
---
Morning sunlight spills into the guest room, warm and golden. Satoshi bolts upright, gasping.
"First I'm at the old man's hut, now here..."
"Old man?" Musume asks, appearing beside him. She wears a crimson kimono embroidered with plum blossoms, her hair tied with golden pins.
Satoshi startles. "Never mind. What happened?"
"You collapsed. The guards said you fainted and brought you here."
A knock. A guard enters. "Lord Kishiyama summons you both."
They follow.
---
"You fainted unexpectedly," Kishiyama says with a slight grin.
"I... don't know what happened. That statue—"
"It judges everyone differently," Kishiyama says. "Perhaps it saw something unusual in you."
The room glows faintly with candlelight. He pours tea for both of them.
"You're welcome at the palace anytime," he says. "And I still owe you that debt. May I ask—where will you go next?"
Satoshi shrugs. "Not sure. Somewhere less crowded than Tenshu, maybe."
Kishiyama chuckles. "Yes, Tenshu can be overwhelming."
Musume frowns, biting her nail. "You're leaving?"
"Soon. But maybe I'll stay a few more days."
She turns to Kishiyama. "Lord Kishiyama, remember when I asked for a personal bodyguard?"
"You refused every candidate."
"They were all old men! I feared they'd take advantage of a noble lady."
"You do exaggerate," Kishiyama says, amused.
"Then let Satoshi be my bodyguard," she says.
"What?" Satoshi blurts. "I can't—"
"If you refuse," she says with teary eyes, "they'll assign me an old man who might... try something."
Kishiyama chuckles. "You saw how capable he was. Very well."
Satoshi sighs. "Fine."
Musume beams. "You won't regret it!"
---
Elsewhere.
A massive man punches through a table. "A kid killed four of my men?!"
"Yes, but—" the underling's words end as his head is severed with one stroke.
The others flinch but remain silent.
"I want that boy dead," the brute growls. "And defile the girl in front of him. I want him to beg."
He smirks. "And find a way to release Ryuji. He'll want revenge."
---
In a quiet mountain shrine, Harutaka meditates, blind eyes closed.
"He's tangled himself in deep trouble," he says softly. A slight smile forms. "That boy's life will never be boring."