The soldiers had no interest in fighting one-to-one duels. They kept to their horses and charged at Ryuu. Fear ran through him. He had never had to fight men on horseback. Shigeru had trained him and he was familiar with the theory, but theory wasn’t combat.
With just moments to go before they reached him his training took over. His mind went blank. He expanded his sense and drew his sword. As he settled into his stance he had a sensation he had never felt before. Everything seemed to come together in his mind. He saw the strikes and his responses and moved smoothly into combat.
The sensation was a powerful drug. A sense of control flowed through him, and while he didn’t feel invincible, he knew he could beat his opponents. He was cut, not deep, but he had known the cuts were coming and knew taking a small cut prevented an opening in his defense later. He didn’t feel the blade as it sliced through his skin. He kept pushing forward, always moving, always cutting and blocking.
As he made his final cut, he snapped out of the flow. As he gathered his senses, the first information he processed was that Orochi and Shigeru hadn’t begun their fight. He had traveled some distance and was a good twenty paces away from them. They had been observing him, maintaining a safe three-pace distance between themselves. Both seemed somewhat taken aback, but Ryuu didn’t know why.
Before he could figure it out, they turned to each other and bowed. Ryuu frowned. After his fight, he didn’t expect to see a duel between the two. He flicked his blade, flinging the fresh blood off, and debated moving towards the battle. Fear and curiosity rooted him in place. But Shigeru needed his help. His attitude had been that he couldn’t beat Orochi, not alone.
Ryuu tried to attain the same state, the same sense of peace and calm he held when he had fought against the five warriors. He could feel it on the edges of his ability, but the more he tried to grasp it, the more it slipped away from him.
Ryuu was torn, unable to decide whether or not to help. He desperately wanted to, but he was so afraid. There wasn’t enough time to think. He had never shied away from Shigeru's blade or the blades of the opponents he had fought thus far. In previous fights he had been confident, and the confidence gave him strength. He didn't know with Orochi.
Ripped apart by his fear, he couldn’t move even as he sensed their duel was about to begin. He couldn't tell what was going to happen. He knew Shigeru was about to strike, could read it in everything from the tension in his muscles to the way his stance subtly shifted.
Ryuu didn't know a thing about Orochi. He couldn’t tell if he was about to strike or defend. He seemed empty. Ryuu couldn't tell if his stance had shifted. His stance was neutral and relaxed, poised in a manner that could mean anything. He tried to read Orochi with his sense but couldn’t get any information.
His doubts slipped away as they sprang into motion. Ryuu had never seen a battle between two nightblades before. There was no way of seeing his fights with Shigeru from an outsider's perspective. They both moved with incredible speed, but the aspect of the fight that first caught Ryuu's attention was that Shigeru wasn't moving any faster than Ryuu had ever seen. Just for a flash, for a moment, he was proud he had seen Shigeru's best.
But Orochi was faster. It wasn't obvious at first. The difference was by less than a hair, but it would be enough. Eventually Orochi would create an opening Shigeru could not block.
The knowledge moved him forward by one step before he hesitated, unable to move further. His heart and mind screamed at him to move, to save the man who had been his father, but from somewhere deep within, he knew, knew like the sun would rise tomorrow, that it was wrong to step into the fray. No words could describe it, but he felt his soul rebel against the right thing to do.
When the moment came, it came so fast Ryuu barely noticed it, a flicker of the blade in the waning twilight, but then it was over. The two combatants stood in the shadows of the tree, frozen like a painting. As his vision cleared, Ryuu saw the blades, one in Shigeru's chest, one in Orochi's. Then he saw more clearly and saw that Shigeru's wound was fatal, Orochi's wasn't.
Ryuu felt the ground shake underneath his feet, and he fell to his knees. He thought he was crying, but his vision was clear. While his heart broke his mind calmly raced through the facts. He wanted to cry, to break down and weep and curl under a blanket and never show his face to the world again. The world had taken everyone he cared about, everyone he had loved, and had killed them, brutally, in front of him, time and time again.
Shigeru's last act was to turn his head towards Ryuu, and Ryuu saw, or thought he saw, a hint of a grin, the characteristic upturned lip that signified happiness for Shigeru. Ryuu immediately saw his mother, dying, smiling, crystal clear like he hadn't seen her in his dreams for almost ten cycles. He still remembered her, and he knew he would remember Shigeru just as well.
It wasn't what Ryuu saw, but what Ryuu felt that he didn't believe. Although Orochi had won, Shigeru was at peace. His sense was clear, and he had no regrets, no sorrow, no hesitation. It was as if he had been trying to achieve death this entire time and had finally reached his goal. Orochi, who would see the sun rise tomorrow, was filled with terror, anger, hatred, and jealousy.
Ryuu couldn't process it fast enough. As half his mind worked at processing the scene in front of him, the other half was planning ahead. Orochi was wounded, but still strong. Shigeru was dying, dead, and Takako was hiding behind the house, unaware of what had just taken place, scared out of her wits as the silence after the battle descended on the field. She would be waiting for him. He thought he could beat Orochi, maybe, if he attacked now.
Shigeru gestured with his head. He wanted Ryuu to leave. Ryuu shook himself. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. But Shigeru repeated the gesture, that damn grin on his face.
The light went out in Shigeru's eyes and Ryuu's decision was made. Shigeru had always been right. He should listen. He stood up and took a long look at Orochi and then turned his back. Orochi's time was not today. Somehow, he knew this. He knew he needed to protect Takako more than he needed to kill Orochi.
Ryuu didn't run, but walked behind the farm, pleasant memories invading the darkness of his heart. He let Orochi watch him take Takako's hand, mount a couple of their would-be assassins’ horses and ride away as the darkness fell over the field. He did not know what Orochi would do, but the choice was now in his hands.
Orochi did not pursue.
The pain of the sword was worse than anything he had experienced before, but he was able to push it down and away from his mind. It could be dealt with later. Right now there was the problem of the boy. He, like Shigeru, had felt the boy's powers expand during the fight. The five should have occupied him at least until he could have arrived. But they were dead before he even drew his sword.
The boy was stronger than Shigeru, but it seemed like even Shigeru hadn't known by how much. Perhaps even stronger than him. How had he learned the technique? Shigeru hadn't known it, had never learned it. Or had he, somehow in his cycles of isolation, managed to figure it out?
Orochi weighed his options. He was wounded and not at full strength. If the boy summoned the power again, Orochi would not stand a chance. He had killed Shigeru, and that was enough for him today. Summoning his strength, he cut Shigeru's head from its body. He would present it to Akira as a token of his progress.
The boy's day was another day.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
In the midst of the darkness Takako clung to her horse. Like most girls born and raised in her village she had ridden ponies at fairs. But they had been well-tamed and old and wouldn't have galloped no matter the incentive.
The horse she was on now was as different to those ponies as fire was to water. This horse was large and strong and didn't seem to know any other speed than gallop. But Ryuu had rushed her straight to the horse, and she had gotten on without question. Something in the urgency and tone of his voice conveyed how important it was she got on the horse. She was saved by the fact the horse seemed to be well-trained, bearing its unskilled rider with ease.
As branches whipped past her face, her memory returned to the events at the farmhouse. Ryuu’s demeanor had done nothing to ease the terror that had been crawling through her mind since the sun had set. Although she couldn’t understand Shigeru as well as Ryuu could, it was obvious he was a man on edge. Given his particular skill set, it meant Orochi was a dangerous man indeed.
Hiding behind the house in silence had terrified her. These people could tell where she was without seeing her. What was the point of being behind a house? Ryuu had just had time to tell her it was for her protection. But she didn’t understand. How could the house protect her if Shigeru and Ryuu lost? Her life was forfeit.
For just a moment she flashed back to her time in Akio’s tent. She had been scared then, but not for her life like she was now. Perhaps it was better to be back there, to never have allowed Ryuu to come and rescue her. She didn't know much of what was happening around her, but she wasn’t sure she was any better off today.
The sharp clang of steel on steel brought her attention crashing back to the present. There was no point in worrying about the future until this moment was dealt with. Her urge to peek around the corner of the cabin was unbearable, but Ryuu had cautioned against it. He explained that Orochi would be the only one who could sense her. Even if they failed but killed Orochi, she might be safe from the others with him. If she was out of sight of the battle there would be no way for an arrow to find her either. Takako accepted the logic. Her desire for safety overpowered her desire to see the outcome of the battle.
The sound of the sword fighting rang through the clear, crisp air of the early evening. Without any warning, silence fell over the field, a sacred silence denoting forever that this field grew over the graves of men.
The silence stretched on and on, but no one called for her, no one came for her. It must have only been moments, but each breath felt like she had lived an entire lifetime. Still nothing. She knew the smart action was to hide deeper in the grass, to make herself as invisible as possible, but she could not do it. She had to know what happened, how the story ended.
She picked her way to edge of the cabin, trying to make as little noise as possible in case one of their enemies was nearby. She crouched down low and moved her head out into the open. Almost immediately she saw Shigeru standing next to an opponent. Although they had never met she knew this man was Orochi. He was one of the largest men Takako had ever seen, and he was built like an outcropping of rock. One glance and she knew they were doomed.
From her vantage point she couldn’t see Ryuu. There was no evidence of a battle anywhere in her field of view, and she assumed the battle had happened separate from the match before her. She would have to move further out from the cabin to see the result.
She dreaded the worst. If Ryuu had won, he would be near her, or by Shigeru helping him fight Orochi. The only explanation that made any sense was that he had lost or was unable to move, severely injured. Takako wasn’t sure she was up to trying to heal him. Blood and guts had never been her thing.
The movement of swords brought her attention back to matters at hand. Even having watched Shigeru and Ryuu spar, she could never believe the full speed of these men fighting.
She didn’t expect it to end so suddenly. In all the adventures she had read the battle waged for what felt like an eternity. Perhaps to those who were fighting, it was true. For Takako, watching the battle, it seemed to go by much faster than she could process it. They moved so fast she couldn’t have said at any point in time if someone was winning or losing.
It took her a moment to understand why the fighting had stopped. They had been moving so fluidly, so quickly, it was difficult to understand how it all just ended. It took one of the last rays of the sun striking the scene to illuminate Takako’s mind. She saw the glint of the sword in Shigeru’s back. He had been run through, the point of the sword sticking straight through his back.
Takako’s mind raced and she couldn’t grasp onto any one thought. There was the shock of the defeat. Her time with Shigeru and Ryuu had made her a believer, a believer that these two men were the strongest fighters that existed. The belief was punctured by the sword through Shigeru’s torso. There was the fear. She still didn’t see Ryuu anywhere, and she assumed he had met the same fate as his mentor. It meant she was next. If Orochi was still alive he could find her anywhere. There was no way to hide from him, no way to hide from anyone with the sense.
She breathed, trying to hold on to one consistent thought, something she could wrap her mind around. Unbidden, a memory sprang to the forefront of her mind. Sharing candy with her father in New Haven. She hadn’t understood it then, but that was the hardest thing he had ever done. She remembered the sadness in his face. She wondered if he had changed, if he had paid his debts and solved his gambling problem. It was pleasant to think he had.
The grasp of a familiar hand on her shoulder shook her out of her reverie. It was Ryuu, motioning her towards two of the horses that were now riderless. Takako’s peaceful reverie had been interrupted so quickly it took her a moment to process that he was still alive, and although he was covered with blood, he was moving without hesitation or any faltering in his step. He was apparently unharmed, or at least not anything serious.
Without the ability to process what was happening, she followed his lead out onto the horses. She took a glance at Orochi, who was watching them but not moving. She saw a glint of steel and saw he too had been impaled. She dared to hope, but Ryuu’s attitude led her to believe their plight wasn’t over. They were on the horses and moving before she could ask any questions.