(V4) Chapter 8: Bleeding for Freedom

Right, it was that night.

Maybe I was too stupid, or just my rationality was numbed by the shochu.

I was just a kid.

A nobody.

And I was about to beg a corporate emperor to let his daughter stay in school. To stay in the country.

What the hell was I thinking?

But Takamine-san didn’t know I was here. And if I failed, she’d be gone before the second semester even ended.

I arrived at their room corridor, and the pair of bodyguards called me out, but they didn't turn aggressive.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because we already know that Lady Shizuku escapes at midnight, whenever Mr. Takamine is already asleep. Leave her to us so we can safely carry her back to the room."

But I stood unhinged.

"No." I said lowly. "Let me in."

"But Mr. Takamine will—"

"I came here to talk to him."

Surprisingly, they hesitated, and let me in without resistance.

I stood in their living room, cradling Takamine-san in my arms. Deeply asleep, face blushing from the alcohol and reeking of liquor.

She was at peace, unaware of what's about to happen tonight.

The maids noticed our presence, and quickly scrambled to call her father Kenzo.

Moments after, the twin doors opened, and Kenzo stood on the railing, arms on his back, and his gaze was cold enough to freeze the whole mansion.

"Ishida Haru-kun? A late night visit. Shizuku is alr—"

When his eyes landed on the girl in my arms, his eyes narrowed. "Why is Shizuku with you?"

“She’s happily exploring her freedom.”

“...Freedom?”

“I came here to ask for that. I want you to cancel her transfer.”

The words shot out like bullets. I didn’t hesitate.

He raised a brow.

"You want to ask?" he echoed. "And you think your wants hold relevance in my household?"

My spine chilled. Our conversation tonight was far from usual, and his tone, while still polite, felt like I was being flayed open.

"I do," I said, inhaling deeply to steady myself. "Because your daughter does."

Silence.

He didn’t even blink.

"Shizuku is not here to enjoy childhood fantasies. She has a role to fulfill. Discipline to maintain. Every second spent around you children is a waste."

Finally, he exposed his true nature, and his sick treatment to his own daughter.

"She’s not a tool," I countered. "She’s a human being. And right now, she’s finally starting to live a little being herself. Smiling, laughing, she's—"

"She is not meant to laugh. She is a role model for Shizumi."

Those words hit me like a slap.

Something boiled within me. This kind of attitude—it was stupid and it was infuriating. How could someone who’d done nothing wrong ever deserved to be treated as a mere investment? It was wrong. There was no reason this man could be standing in this room, lecturing me before to get comfortable in this house.

Because after knowing all of this, I'll never be.

And the fact that he thinks Shizuku's emotions didn't even matter. I just couldn't believe it.

“You are so cruel,” I snarled at him, my anger overflowing from the cracks. “If you only treated her as a daughter, she wouldn't act the way she does right now.”

"She is meant to lead," he continued. "And if that means sacrificing what you call freedom, so be it. You presume to know better than me?"

"No, sir. I don’t presume. I believe."

A silence stretched.

I took a breath. "She’ll catch up to every class rank. She’ll study harder than ever. I’ll help her if I have to. I’ll watch over her, I’ll make sure—"

"Enough."

His voice was soft this time, but it cut the air like lightning.

"You speak like a fool, and worse—like someone who believes their feelings matter more than the system. Like simple desires matter more than our legacy."

I gritted my teeth. My fists clenched at my sides.

He waltzed down to the aisle and stood in front of me.

"Besides, on what grounds do you assume authority over my daughter’s academic direction?"

"I—I don’t. I’m just..." I paused, looking down. "I’m just a classmate who thinks she deserves to stay."

"You think," he said, voice as smooth and flat as a blade. "Foolishness disguised as idealism. Komorebi High has served its purpose. There is no longer any benefit in her remaining there."

"But she—she’s happy there. She’s found friends, she’s—"

"She has a future to secure," he interrupted, and that alone killed the argument. "Not fleeting distractions to indulge in. If your only argument is sentiment, then I could just as easily pierce your emotional glands with my sabre and be done with this."

My blood ran cold.

I wasn’t even sure what that meant, but the image was clear enough.

And somehow—that gave me an idea. A crazy, stupid, desperate idea.

"...Sabre?" I echoed.

He raised a brow. "What?"

"You fence," I said slowly, the words coming together in my head like puzzle pieces. I already lost the conversation but thanks to my adrenaline rush, a light bulb flickered open in the parts of my head I thought were empty.

My gaze shifted around the house and luckily, it landed on a trophy case beneath his portrait.

Just as I turned to him, a pair of small arms embraced my right leg.

"Daddy is a fencing champion! Shishi too!"

Shizumi?

She looked up at me with upturned eyes. "Onii-chan saved Shishi tonight? Amazing!"

Kenzo clears his throat.

"What does my championship have to do with anything?"

I took a breath. Then met his gaze.

"Then fight me."

Silence.

Not the awkward kind.

The kind that happens right before the world explodes.

He tilted his head slightly.

"Fight you," he repeated, unsure of what he heard. "With a blade?"

"Yes," I said, swallowing the lump building in my throat. "Let's go with one match. If I win…you will cancel her transfer. If I lose, I’ll stay out of her life without complaints. You’ll never hear my name. But at least I’ll have fought for her freedom."

He stared at me long and hard, and I saw it—just the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. Not quite a smirk. Maybe amusement. Maybe contempt.

"I’ve represented Japan in international fencing tournaments. I was taught by Italian champions, and that my form has not dulled with age. You think I would waste my time on an outsider like you? You are absurd."

"Maybe," I said. "But I’m serious. You said it yourself. Emotions don’t matter. So let’s make it physical."

He huffed in satisfaction. "What's your wager, then?"

"Shizumi."

He paused, scrutinizing the words I just said.

After a few moments, he chuckled curtly, out of character. "You play well with your cards."

Right, he realized that he owes me Shizumi's presence. I saved her from being kidnapped, and that alone is a huge wager for him to reconsider.

"Very well," he said finally. "One bout. Standard rules. First to five touches. Follow me."

Before I handed Shizuku to the bodyguards, I whispered, "Let's enjoy the field trip together."

She might not have heard it, but at least I got to tell how I really meant it. That’s not just a statement, it’s a promise.

At the same time, Shizumi broke free from her embrace.

"Yay! Good luck, Onii-chan! Make it out alive or I will finish you on Dad's behalf!"

Kenzo stepped out from the living room and proceeded to his office. It wasn't the royalty I am expecting, just tons of books and a dimly lit study table in the middle with a large window behind it.

The man had the presence of a general—and here I was, just a dumb seventeen-year-old in a wrinkled uniform and half-tied sneakers steps away from knowing the conglomerate's darkest secrets.

A double door stood between us, and the maids pushed it open, revealing a dojo with a complete set of equipment for several disciplines of combat.

"Yasuo, be our referee."

"Gladly, sir."

The nerdy butler picks up a whiteboard and marker, then scribbles out the scoring format. At the same time, he activates the scoring machine.

Kenzo was already on his helmet and gear, and he tossed another set onto the floor in front of me.

"Some people think just because they can lift the blade, they have already lifted their spirit." he said, raising the foil in hand. "It’s not true."

"Foil?" I asked. "At least choose something that can cut my emotional glands."

Kenzo raised an eyebrow, amused. "Toying with hubris doesn't rile me up."

He dropped the foil and unsheathed a glinting saber.

I stared at the one beneath me.

Then bent down and picked it up.

My hands trembled slightly due to the weight.

But my heart?

My heart was set.

***

"En garde!" Yasuo called.

I stood at one end of the fencing strip, suited up like some kind of knight without a kingdom. Across from me, Mr. Takamine adjusted his glove with surgical precision. The man was terrifying—calm, composed, and cold as steel.

“Your stance,” he said, voice flat, “It’s not from a classical school.”

"Because I’m free."

“Free, yes. But fighting without discipline?" he scoffed. "You can’t win against me if you don’t follow the proper form. Rules are what separate the skilled from the reckless.”

“Rules predict everything,” I argued. “They trap you in a box. Life’s not like that. Sometimes the best move is the one that breaks the pattern.”

He tensed into the perfect en garde position—blade up, posture exact.

Mine? My palm rested open, saber tilted sideways. A little awkward. A little off-balance.

"Begin!"

Kenzo exploded into action, and his saber became a silver blur. He lunged, a lightning strike aimed at my torso. I twisted my body backwards, but his sabre grazed my shoulder.

My arm stung.

The machine beeped.

"Point! Kenzo-san!"

Before I could react, he came at me again. I managed to parry one stab with a flick of the wrist, but his attacks were full of contained fury and effortless grace.

Beep. Two-Zero.

A piece of leather hung near my elbow, ripped from the sleeve of my gear.

This time I knew, there was no rebellious philosophy that could spare me from physical harm.

“You're not even fighting to win, are you? You’re just moving without purpose. Let me tell you, freedom comes with consequences. Do you know how hard I’ve worked to protect her? To keep her safe from the dangers of the world? She needs structure. She needs to follow a path that will secure her future. I won’t let her make reckless decisions.”

I didn’t answer. Not yet. His next lunge came, but this time, I saw it. I slipped under his arm and slashed low, across his thigh.

"Point, Haruki!"

We reset.

“You think she’ll thank you for this?” he snapped. “You think she wants to live unguarded, unstructured, vulnerable?”

I shook my head. “She’s not a conglomerate doll. Takamine-san is a person. She deserves the choice to live as herself. Maybe you think you've done everything right because she never reacts, but that was all just a facade.”

He lunged again, silent this time. The sabers clashed—once, twice, three times.

I lived a life under strict rules before. But I felt stuck, pulled away from the happinesses I would've experienced if not because of preservation.

Yes, I was safe. But I was trapped. If I never tried to rebel, at least, at a huge cost, I would've never moved forward.

Discipline taught me control. But freedom?

Freedom taught me how to live.

Kenzo clutched his sabre tighter, and started to maneuver the floor with skilled footwork.

"She is the legacy of our name. She must be beyond her limits. Perfection, or nothing.”

I ducked just in time as his saber slashed toward my helmet, but he twisted and struck my thigh instead. Pain bloomed up my leg.

I grimaced.

"Three-one!"

I steadied my breath.

“It’s not her you’re protecting, maybe it’s your image. You can’t control her life forever. All you can do is trust her to make her own decisions.”

"My directions gave her this kind of comfortable life."

His movements grew more aggressive. He fought like a man chasing inevitability.

But I kept stepping through his rhythm.

Evade. Counter. Slide. I parried by accident—more like survival instinct than skill—and nicked his shoulder.

"Point—Haruki!"

And another.

"Point!"

The tides are turning suddenly.

His blade spoke of duty. Of legacy and control.

Mine?

Mine spoke of dreams. The feeling of broken chains. It reflected Takamine-san’s smile on the rain, her quiet unraveling at the school library, her tears at the riverside and the bitter rejection because I’m not the problem, but the people around her.

“You speak of her as a perfect product,” I said, “But I’ve seen her cry when no one’s looking. I’ve heard her laugh at my stupid dumb jokes. She loses focus when thinking about Shizumi. She takes pride upon giving up everything just to protect her younger sister, and she's the only one keeping her afloat.”

I trailed off.

"And now, you're planning to separate the two?"

“She is a Takamine. And I am the only one that can decide the road she will take.”

"Have you ever asked her about what she wanted to be?"

No answers.

He just lunged feverishly, thrusting with pinpoint accuracy. I managed to save space for a counterattack but he riposted everything I threw at him.

“That never mattered. If she changes her course, the future of the company will be compromised.”

But somehow—one opening appeared. My blade slid in just under his guard and tagged his side.

"Hit! Haruki, match point!"

The conversations had already stopped, and we were both glued at finishing this combat.

He might have taken me more seriously at this point, as he moved fast, so fast I barely saw it.

I parried his slash, steel clanging against steel.

But then—

He twisted his sabre, an unpredictable move.

His sabre tore through my gear, mercilessly ripping everything along the way. My mask flew against my will.

I didn't register the pain until I saw crimson at the ends of his weapon.

The pain burned straight across my chest. Blood dripped to the gym floor.

My breath caught, and I fell to one knee.

I planted my sabre to anchor my weight, even though my frame trembled.

The butler Yasuo screamed. “Stop! Stop the match!”

Mr. Takamine stood over me, mask still on, breathing hard.

And I stood on weak legs and soaked gear. I pointed the sabre right at his heart. Right to the organ that he’s missing in a sense.

“I have everything you would have wished for.”

“But a heart.” I rasped. "I'm not done yet."

He stared.

“You’re bleeding.”

“I know.”

“You’re injured.”

“…So what?”

I kicked my mask aside and met his eyes.

“That’s the price of freedom, right? I’m more than willing to bleed for it.”

The room fell silent. So silent it felt like time stopped.

Then, finally—he lowered his blade.

“Match over,” he said to the butler. "Haruki wins."

I blinked.

He turned around and didn't face me again. He didn't speak another word.

But as he reached the exit, he paused.

“I’ll withdraw the paperwork tomorrow morning. I’ll let her stay till she graduates high school.”

And just like that, he vanished into his empire of shadows.

I finally collapsed on the polished wood, blood pooling around me.

Every breath hurts.

But for the first time…it felt like I could breathe.

Maybe I didn’t win that match because I was stronger. I didn’t win because I was smarter. I won because I was willing to bleed for someone else’s right to choose.

And that softened the toughest man I ever faced.