After three days from the battle ....
The cart rattled along the broken dirt road, every bump sending jolts through Ishikawa's battered body. Three days they had ridden like this — silent, save for the creaking of wheels and the occasional whinny of the tired mule dragging them forward.
The rider, an old man named Rengiro, squinted at the horizon. Tsu was still a distant smudge, but the smell of smoke already rode the breeze.
"Almost there," Rengiro muttered, spitting to the side.
Ishikawa said nothing. His twin swords, Kurayami and Kurasa, rested against his leg, the black steel humming with restless energy. His fingers itched for blood.
The old man eyed him cautiously.
"You really gonna walk into Tsu alone, son?"
Ishikawa's eyes were fixed ahead, a storm gathering in his chest.
"You don't even know what's waiting for you," Rengiro said, shaking his head. "Tsu ain't the same place anymore. Used to be... long ago, Kamahari Clan ruled there. Proud. Strong. Samurai who protected the poor."
He laughed bitterly.
"All gone now. Burned down. Slaughtered like pigs by Kajin-ryu scum. Takayasu Nakajima led 'em — fat bastard that he is — but the real puppetmaster was Kagoshima. That monster... he wanted Tsu for its routes, its brothels, its iron mines."
Rengiro's hands tightened on the reins.
"They killed the Kamahari lord. Hung his family from the castle gates. Made the town a den of filth. Women sold like cattle. Men worked till their backs broke. Children thrown in pits to die."
The old man glanced back.
"Why do you ask, stranger? Why do you ride into hell?"
Ishikawa finally spoke, voice low and cold as winter steel.
"To kill him."
Rengiro's eyes widened.
"For Kamahari?"
"No," Ishikawa said, his hand resting lightly on Kurayami's hilt. "For someone who's still breathing... and waiting."
The cart rumbled on.
Far ahead, black flags flew from the crumbling towers of Tsu — the Kajin-ryu emblem: a dragon devouring a blade.
And waiting inside... monsters worse than beasts.
Inside Tsu, the House of Chōsu stood atop a hill, overlooking the squalor below like a vulture over a battlefield.
Inside the grand hall, laughter echoed against blood-stained walls.
At the head of the table lounged Aza Kabuki, Captain of Chōsu, the so-called Ikisudama — Spirit of Rage. He was a small height man,but his arms thick with muscle, his chest bare beneath an open black kimono embroidered with scarlet demons. His hair was wild, his eyes bored and half-lidded.
He yawned wide enough to crack his jaw.
Across from him sat Vice-Captain Okii Miruku, a slender woman with short-cropped silver hair, her armor polished to a wicked gleam. She sipped sake from a golden cup, legs crossed lazily.
Before them, in the center of the hall, a girl was dancing.
Or trying to.
A young girl, no older than sixteen, with large breasts nearly bursting from her cheap, too-tight kimono, stumbled through her motions. Her arms trembled. Her eyes were blank.
Kabuki watched for a moment, unimpressed.
"What a bore," he said loudly, scratching his belly. "Big tits, dead eyes. I've seen better dancing from a hanged man."
He flicked a chicken bone at her head. She flinched but kept moving.
Miruku chuckled softly.
"You're getting picky, Captain."
"Picky?!" Kabuki bellowed, slamming his cup down so hard it shattered. "I demand art! Not this... this sad slab of meat!"
He stood abruptly, towering over the girl. She cowered.
Kabuki grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look at him.
"You dance like you're already dead," he growled. "You think Nakajima will be entertained by a corpse?"
The girl whimpered, and a wet patch bloomed under her feet.
Kabuki sneered in disgust and shoved her away.
"Trash."
He turned back toward Miruku, cracking his knuckles.
"Speaking of trash... what about that girl? Asaki, was it?"
Miruku swirled her sake thoughtfully before replying.
"You mean the one girl he wants?"
Kabuki's face darkened.
"Yes. The one Toshizu Arai was supposed to deliver."
Miruku smiled, a slow, predatory curve of her lips.
"She's already caught. Taken to Nakajima's brothel."
Kabuki grunted.
"And Toshizu?"
"Arai's busy guarding the brothel. Doesn't trust the other rats not to take a bite."
Kabuki's fist clenched.
"I should've ordered her killed," he snarled. "Better dead than giving Ishikawa a reason to come here."
Miruku's silver eyes glittered.
"You still can," she said. "It's not too late."
Kabuki roared with laughter.
"Ha! You hear that, boys?!"
Around the hall, drunken soldiers cheered and banged their cups.
Kabuki leaned in, his breath foul with sake.
"But you know what, Miruku? Maybe... just maybe... we let her live a little longer."
He slammed a dagger into the table, pinning a wriggling rat to the wood.
"I want to see Ishikawa's face when he finds her... broken."
Blood pooled on the table, staining the wood black.
Miruku smiled sweetly.
"As you wish, Captain."
Outside Tsu, storm clouds gathered.
Rengiro pulled the cart to a stop a mile from the gates.
"This is as far as I go," he said gruffly. "You walk from here."
Ishikawa nodded silently and jumped down.
The swords at his side whispered promises of death.
He stared at the gates of Tsu, black and jagged, like the maw of some great beast.
Then he walked forward.
Each step was heavy.
Each breath was fire.
In his mind, Asaki's face floated — bruised, bloodied, yet still proud.
The girl who had called him back from the edge of death.
The girl who had smiled at him with hope in a hopeless world.
He would not fail her.
Not again.
Not ever.
Inside the brothel, Asaki lay chained to a filthy wall.
Her body screamed in agony.
Welts and cuts striped her skin. Her kimono was torn and stained with blood.
Yumi huddled beside her, silent now, too broken to cry.
The other girls watched with hollow, vacant eyes.
Kyoko stood over them, smiling like a cat before a crippled mouse.
"Tonight," she cooed, "Captain Nakajima comes to visit you personally. Aren't you honored?"
Asaki said nothing.
Kyoko crouched, grabbed her hair, and yanked her head up.
"I said — aren't you honored?"
Asaki spat blood into her face.
Kyoko slapped her so hard her vision went white.
"Still fighting," Kyoko purred. "Good. It makes it more delicious when you finally break."
The door slammed open.
A soldier stumbled inside, panting.
" Kyoko- san ! Captain Nakajima demands the girl now!"
Kyoko rose smoothly.
"Very well. Fetch the iron collars."
The soldier hesitated.
"There's... there's rumors," he stammered. "Of a man outside the gates. Alone. Carrying two black blades."
Kyoko froze.
Her smile faltered for the first time.
Outside, the bells of Tsu began to ring.
Alarm bells.
The sound of fear.
The sound of death approaching.
Asaki felt a shiver run through her blood.
He's here.
Ishikawa is here.
To be continued...
( New Arc Begin )