by Bryce Allen
“Your father died, too?” Taijin whispered.
“He did. He died in the war.”
Taijin cleared his throat and asked a morbid question: “When does it begin to hurt less?”
Kenji pondered at the question. It caught him off guard. Kenji wasn’t comfortable with being a source of wisdom. Only a few short days ago it had been Ebusu who answered the questions.
Kenji knew the answer, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. It never hurt less, at least not for Kenji. Bitter memories of his sobbing mother were always right below the surface.
“With time, you’ll learn.”
Taijin looked up at him with a puzzled expression. The question wasn’t answered, but as the years passed Taijin would understand.
“Your sword, Taijin, it has the same power of the Zettai. It granted your father impossible strength.”
Kenji studied Taijin’s face closely, looking for signs of understanding. The way the boy’s face twisted with confusion told Kenji that he was oblivious.
“It was kept a secret and passed from emperor to emperor. It was a safeguard in case the wielder of the Zettai betrayed the empire. All swords have a second.”
Kenji could see Taijin thinking through the problem. Surely, he had to see signs of it every day. The way Taishi moved with a sword had been amazing. Taijin’s vacant expression told Kenji he had no idea of the sword’s power.
Kenji was surprised that Taijin didn’t feel it only moments earlier. He had drawn the weapon against Kenji, but nothing changed in him. Hiroshi’s entire demeanor had changed when he first held the Zettai. The boy’s grief was so strong it must have dulled his senses.
“Tell me everything you know,” Taijin said, the resolve returning to his voice.
Kenji nodded and began. He told the young emperor everything. He left out no detail. Taijin’s face tightened with grief as Kenji spoke of the battle in Hiroshi’s wing of the palace. It was a painful story to tell.
Kenji even spoke of his attempt to take his own life. He didn’t know why, but he felt it was important for Taijin to know. When Kenji finished, silence filled the room for some time. Taijin was considering his next action.
He turned to the sword. He sheathed it with a careful, smooth motion. The young emperor held it up before him, displaying it to powers unseen. Kenji eyed the second Zettai with eager respect. It could have been a trick of the mind, but he thought he could feel waves of power emanating from the blade like a tsunami.
Kenji removed Sagura’s sword from his back. Without much thought, he set the sword on Taijin’s bed roll. He was too fascinated with the second Zettai to care.
“Promise me something, champion.”
The boy’s voice was clear and powerful. The well-trained young man that Kenji remembered returned. His posture was straight, but his body was devoid of tension.
“Anything.”
“If I give you this blade, you will defeat Hiroshi, but you will not kill him.”
Kenji’s heart skipped a beat. His ears and cheeks flushed with a burst of anger. He’d imagined killing Hiroshi hundreds of times since he killed Ebusu. It was his driving force.
“He needs to stand trial for his crimes. It is the way Jin and my father would have wanted it.”
Kenji’s anger faded, and the younger, more innocent part of his mind took control. Taijin was right. Taishi had spared the man that killed his wife. He would at least grant his brother a trial.
“You have my word, I will not kill him.”
Taijin set the sword before Kenji and bowed. Kenji matched his bow. He scooped it with delicate movements, as if not to disturb it. Kenji stood and moved to the center of the room. His excitement was obvious, and every strand of him being told him to draw the blade.
The sword was simple enough. It was less ornate than Sagura’s gem-encrusted sword. A shallow design was carved into the sheath. Vines twisted down it, braiding their way to the end. They weren’t visible at a distance, but Kenji could feel the details in his hand.
He slid the sword into his belt and dropped into a shallow stance. He gripped the handle and prepared to draw. He cleared his mind and focused only on executing the perfect draw cut.
It was a simple move, but the speed and power of a draw cut was the sign of a true swordsman.
Kenji pulled the blade from its sheath and made the cut. It ended straight across from his body, and Kenji froze.
He wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen. It was a good cut, but it wasn’t stronger or faster than his normal draw. Kenji stood up, testing his legs and arms for added strength. The way Hiroshi moved with the Zettai was obvious. He had immense strength.
Kenji felt nothing but the weight of well-crafted steel in his hands. Kenji waved the sword before him, an almost childish movement. He supposed he did feel stronger, but was it just the adrenaline?
He heard them before Taijin did. The steady footsteps of soldiers marching down the hall grew louder in the room. Taijin’s eyes darted to Kenji in confusion.
“They know I’m here,” Kenji whispered.
He ran to the window, ready for a hasty climb down. His heart pounded in his chest as he processed what he saw. The entire column of soldiers that had been patrolling the palace earlier were surrounding the west wing. Their torches were lit, and all eyes were honed on the window Kenji was standing in.
Kenji cursed. Had they seen him climbing the walls? He had been positive no one was there. They hadn’t made much noise in Taijin’s room. Kenji cursed again as he looked at the second Zettai. Why wasn’t it doing anything? Did he have to pray to it? He needed its power now.
Panic spread over Kenji’s whole body. He was trapped. He wanted to run or hide, but the shadows of the soldiers appeared over the rice-paper door.
“Go to a corner and don’t move. They won’t hurt you,” Kenji whispered.
Kenji dropped into a defensive stance, sword at the ready. The shadows on the rice paper were motionless, waiting. The armor covering their shoulders and heads was obvious. Some of the men had spears, others had swords.
In the back of Kenji’s mind, he hoped the sword would be activated by life or death combat. Perhaps the strength would come to him when he needed it most. That thought was the only thing holding him together.
Kenji gritted his teeth and prepared for the onslaught. Their attack was sudden and violent. In silent unison, two of the soldiers cut through the rice paper with their swords. Within an instant, soldiers were pouring through the torn paper.
The first three ignored Kenji completely. They surrounded the emperor and checked if he was injured. Taijin waved them off, but the soldiers ignored the gesture. The guards immediately leveled their spears at Kenji and became statues. They had a single purpose: protect the emperor from Kenji.
“I order you to stand down. This man has done nothing wrong,” Taijin shouted at the soldiers, but they ignored him. They were taking orders from a different authority.
Five more men filled the room, swords drawn. These soldiers surrounded Kenji, circling him with careful, calculated steps. Kenji shifted out of his stance and became fluid. He would need to be able to move if he wanted a chance.
Once Kenji was sure no more guards were coming, he lashed out. He wanted every advantage possible. The guard to his left wasn’t prepared for such an attack. Kenji cut low, sweeping the blade’s edge upward.
The soldier was off guard, and if it hadn’t been for his armor he would have died. The blade caught a metal plate and deflected away from the man. The soldier was left with a painful, but superficial cut.
In that very moment, fear awoke in Kenji. He felt nothing in his hand but wood and steel. There was no mystical energy running through him. The cut was strong and well timed, but that was all.
The fight exploded around him. The soldier to his right slashed high. Kenji deflected the blow but couldn’t strike the opening. There was another cut coming from behind him. The soldier, thinking he had the fatal cut, barked a shout. K
enji spun out of his deflection and blocked the attack head on.
Beside him, another soldier lunged at him. At the same time, the last soldier moved towards him, slashing with multiple cuts. Kenji barely sidestepped the stab and barreled into the other attacker. He caught the slasher mid-attack and buried his shoulder into the man’s chest.
The blow did no real damage thanks to the soldier’s armor, but it knocked him back. It gave Kenji enough space to re-establish himself. The soldiers rushed to reform the circle around him.
They glanced at each other, nodding acknowledgments. They had a plan that Kenji wasn’t prepared for. Kenji didn’t notice, though. His mind was focused on his blade. He survived the first exchange, but not because of any special power granted by the sword.
If it had any power, it would have shown itself by now.
The soldiers snapped into a defensive position and their pacing changed dramatically. They were going for the easy win before, but now they were cautious. Their openings were fewer and their stances were strong.
Kenji spun around. He searched for an opening, but the soldiers struck first. In perfect harmony, the soldiers in front and directly behind Kenji cut. Kenji shifted forward, catching the soldier in front of him with a swift kick to the chest. The soldier behind him tried to follow Kenji with the attack, but only partially succeeded.
The cut grazed Kenji’s back before digging into the wooden floor. Waves of burning pain radiated from the long laceration. Kenji grimaced, forcing his pain below the surface. It was a long wound, but a shallow one.
Kenji turned and slashed at the soldier behind him. The soldier was still pulling his sword from the wooden floor. He must have put a lot of power into a cut for it to dig in that deep. The soldier looked up in shock. Kenji’s eyes met his.
All the soldier had to do was let go of his sword. He could have stumbled backwards and lived to fight another day. Kenji could see the conflict in his eyes. Let go of the sword and live in shame, or cling to it a die an honorable fool.
In a fraction of a second, Kenji’s cut was complete. Out of desperation, the soldier threw up his arm. He succeeded in protecting his neck and head, but Taishi’s old blade dug deep. The steel penetrated skin, muscle, and bone. From the soldier’s elbow to his shoulder, the man’s arm was obliterated.
Kenji pulled the sword from the man’s flesh. Blood gushed from the wound and the soldier scrambled back. He clutched the wound, but the gash was larger than his hand. With the bone severed, the arm swung in unnatural angles. Only a few strands of muscle and tendon kept the limb in place now.
Kenji’s pause only lasted a breath, but that was all it took. His head ripped forward and the room went silent. His senses dulled. A guard had struck him in the back of his head. His world was spinning.
Kenji took a few clumsy steps forward, barely catching himself before he fell on top of the bloodied soldier. Kenji spun to face his attackers, but his vision wouldn’t focus on them. He could seem them, but they swayed back and forth. His eyes wouldn’t latch on to any one of them.
Kenji’s stupor calmed the soldiers. They were angry about their fallen comrade, but they were acting on orders. Kenji gave his head a violent shake, but he couldn’t clear the haze that settled around him.
The soldiers moved in again. One of them pulled the wounded soldier to the side of the room. The circle closed in on Kenji.
The soldier in front of Kenji raised his sword as if to attack. He took a step towards Kenji but let the cut go. Kenji raised his sword to meet the attack that didn’t happen.
He realized his mistake too late. A fist smashed into his temple, rocking his head to the side. The force of the blow turned Kenji away from the hit and he started to fall.
Before his body could collapse, a hard kick folded him in half. The soldier’s foot dug deep into Kenji’s abdomen. All of the air was forced out of his lungs. Bile and saliva spewed from his mouth.
Kenji’s legs buckled and he fell. The emperor’s sword hit the ground before he did. He clutched his stomach. Eyes wide with pain, he hit the ground hard. He made no attempt to catch himself.
In all of his pain, only one thought remained: Ebusu was wrong. The sword wasn’t a Zettai.
Kenji knew there was movement around him, but he didn’t care. His eye was starting to swell shut from the second strike. The blow to the back of his head sent waves of mind-numbing pain over his body. His breath was returning, but only in short, painful gasps.
One thing did register, though. Taijin was being ushered from the room. Their eyes locked for a moment. The disappointment was obvious on the little emperor’s face. He didn’t know who to trust and he didn’t know what to do.
Kenji raged against the pain to get a few short words out.
“Don’t trust him.”
Taijin heard him, but so did the soldier standing over him. Sneering, the guard wound up for kick. Kenji tightened his core for the blow, but he couldn’t manage much. The kick hit him at his center. He wanted to scream from the pain, but only a muffled bark came out.
More bile was forced from Kenji’s stomach. It pooled by his face, but he didn’t have the strength to hold his head out of it.
Taijin left the room. What lies would he be told? Kenji didn’t know what would happened next, but he didn’t dare move. The pain was too great, and four soldiers still hovered over him. What were they waiting for?
Kenji’s mind started to fade. Darkness started to obscure his vision. He became tempted by visions of rest, of peace. It would be simple to just slip in to unconsciousness.
Kenji shut his eyes but fought it. He wanted to know his fate. At least he could face it with honor if he was awake.
The soldiers snapped to attention as another man walked into the room. Kenji wasn’t facing the door, but based on the soldiers’ reaction, this man was important. It could only be one person: Hiroshi.
“Sir, we did our best not to injure him, but he fought hard. I think he passed out, but he will live,” one soldier reported.
Footsteps told Kenji that Hiroshi was standing over him. He could feel someone lean over him. He was being inspected.
“He is awake.”
The voice spoke with a dull sense of amusement. It was familiar to Kenji, but it wasn’t Hiroshi’s voice. His heart and mind raced through the possibilities. He had an idea of who it was, but he needed to see to be sure.
Kenji opened his eyes. The man’s cleanly shaved head came into view first. Then his fine, golden robes became clear. His clothing concealed a hint of a gut that only a sedentary job would create, a governor perhaps.
“Sagura?”
The governor offered a weak smile and nodded to Kenji.
Kenji’s eyes darted to the guards, then back to Sagura. His mind became a twisted maze. He couldn’t focus on any particular thought. What was happening? Why was Sagura there? The soldiers should be attacking him.
Kenji looked at Sagura, then to the emperor’s sword laying a few feet away. He widened his eyes and gave Sagura a nod. Kenji wanted to tell him to pick up the sword and fight the soldiers, but he didn’t want to give away Sagura’s element of surprise.
Sagura noticed the gesture. His smile faded, and his eyes filled with pity. Again, Kenji didn’t understand what was happening. Sagura’s actions didn’t make any sense.
Sagura scooped up the sword and walked towards a guard. Kenji mustered the little strength he could. If Sagura could manage an attack, Kenji could at least help. The hope numbed the pain.
Sagura offered the sword to the soldier.
“Take this back to Taijin.”
“Yes, governor.”
The soldier bowed, took the sword, and ran out of the room.
Kenji blinked. Understanding came over him, and the corners of his vision went red.
His limbs shook with fury. The hope and fear that had filled his mind were pushed away. Rage was the only thought. All pain disappeared.
Kenji slowly moved to a crouch. The soldiers moved t
o strike him again, but Sagura gestured for them to stand down.
Every muscle in his body tightened and Kenji stood. He could feel weakness where the pain used to be, but he didn’t care. Blood trickled down his back, reminding him of the wound he sustained earlier.
Teeth bared and jaw clenched, Kenji growled his words to Sagura.
“The Teki-Zettai, does it exist?”
“No.” Sagura spoke plainly, unaffected by Kenji’s anger.
“The note was fake,” Kenji said.
“It was.”
“Why?”
“I needed to deliver you to Tenno.”
“You’re with Hiroshi?”
Sagura’s eyes cut through Kenji. He was choosing his words carefully.
“My only alliance is to the empire. War must be avoided at all costs.”
“War?” Kenji shouted. “I trusted you. Ebusu trusted you.”
Every word Kenji said dripped with hatred.
“This is a small price for the stability of the empire. I’m sorry, Kenji.”
Kenji’s fists tightened and his arms trembled with rage. The blackness that was closing in around him was now burning red. He bared his teeth at Sagura, unable to form words. Kenji didn’t have a sword, but he didn’t need one.
Sagura was a safe distance away, but close enough for Kenji to try.
The guards were shocked when Kenji exploded forward. He’d been so dazed and weak before, they didn’t expect him to attack. Perhaps if they had been able to kill him, they could have stopped him. However, with the no-kill order placed on Kenji, they were forced into half-measures.
It only took two leaping steps to reach the governor. Kenji lunged left, then right, weaving around the fumbling guard trying to subdue him. His anger granted him speed and purpose.
Sagura’s eyes widened in a flash of realization. He tried to throw his hands up to intercept the punch, but Kenji was too fast.
Screaming his anger and exertion, Kenji’s fist smashed into Sagura’s cheek. Kenji felt Sagura’s teeth dig into his skin. A little satisfaction spread over him when he felt some of the teeth snap under the pressure.
