A Purchased Sword Tries to Incite Murder

Kill.

The inner thought smacked at the back of Mamoru’s head once again, and no amount of shaking could get the unpleasantness away. It wasn’t his thought. It wasn’t his inner voice. It was that stupid sword, the one he bought on a quest of vengeance, once again trying to make the deed ever so enticing. He tried to switch gears on his motorcycle before remembering it was electric—old habits died hard.

When the high school boy first found the story of a cursed sword, he thought it might be the answer he needed. To save his sister from their clutches. It was a more reasonable approach than trying to bank on learning magic spells that may or may not exist. Instead, he got a distorted voice banging at the back of his head like it was a drum.

You could slash the car in front in half.

The twisted voice tried again. Mamoru had only just purchased the blade, and it hadn’t let up for a second since the moment he touched it. Various online chat forums said a cursed blade was powerful, capable of letting its user cut steel in half, due to something about old magic being powerful. He had zipped away from the shady store in the hope that his vengeance could be taken the very same night. Now he realized he just needed to clear his head from the repeated ‘Kill. Kill. Kill.’ that polluted it.

Mamoru accelerated and zipped between the two cars in front. One slammed on his horn, and the other probably shouted in shock, maybe even thrown an obscene hand gesture up. He didn’t care. Any hope that the ride would clear away the voice shrank rapidly, and the pesky sword continued its murderous onslaught on his head.

“Talk all you want, sword, you’re still going to help me save her,” he spat back, knowing the weapon couldn’t hear. For a brief moment, the blade stopped before it continued chanting the only word it must have known as the highway went by in a blur.

He knew he would win the battle for his mind, and that was the first victory in the real war. Shady as the place was, the shopkeeper had given him a funny look and nervous warning at his purchase. Now he saw why. Who wouldn’t? Even if it was a delinquent-looking high schooler who rolled in, the shop owner still felt the need to warn him.

Turns out it was actually cursed, too. Skepticism was not something Mamoru was free from going in, but it was long gone now.

Zipping off the expressway, he quickly found a place to park his bike. The beast of a machine stopped its hum, and red LED lights shut off. Mamoru took off his helmet and cracked his neck. He combed his scarlet hair to hang off to the right side using the bike’s mirror, then deposited his helmet and leather jacket in the bike’s compartment.

What a cute couple over there. The sword’s voice chimed in. Sure enough, a couple walked just out of his periphery with arms wrapped around one another. It was a little disturbing the sword seemed to be able to see what he couldn’t, but that power could end up being a boon once he mastered the blade. You should kill them.

“That is frankly awful to say, you have issues,” Mamoru replied with snark back at the blade. He thought maybe he heard a growl from the blade, but that could be his imagination after the long day. It did quiet a moment, which was a small victory.

If the ride didn’t clear his mind, then perhaps a walk would. He tightened his sword bag labeled with ‘Tendo High Kendo Club’ in view where all could see. Hands slid into his khaki pockets, and he marched into the downtown streets.

The air was already beginning to turn cold, but that didn’t stop the mob of other high schoolers and office workers from strolling the streets now that everything had been let out for the evening. What should have been a blackening sky was waned by a spectrum of brightly colored LEDs being installed everywhere. Part of the new ‘beautifying project’ the mayor had had issued as a joint project with Subarashii Corp, though he didn’t want much to think about that company at the moment.

It looks terrible. The sword added in between chants of killing while Mamoru focused on the LEDs. It was perhaps a little concerning if the blade could read his thoughts, but all the stranger that it even felt the need for commentary in the first place. He figured he would ignore that for the time being. He agreed this time anyway. Everything that company did was terrible, after all. It was the very same place that tricked his elder sister.

Weaving through the crowded streets, Mamoru decided some window shopping would be the best fit for clearing his infected mind. It wasn’t like he had lots of money to burn anyway, so he was pretty safe from an impulse buy. Unless, of course, there was a good album to pick up.

The sword made a couple of attempts to convince him to start a bloodbath, and with each attempt, he just mocked the blade with worse and worse insults. It seemed he was pissing it off, but what was it going to do?

As the hours drew later, the crowd thinned out more. Mamoru took the opportunity to head to the music store on Kou St. It was the sort of grungy place that sold everything from old 8-tracks to a chip format some newbies were trying to get off the ground. What was most important was that the store owner was a bit of a rebel who refused to stock anything from Subarashii. Given how they controlled the majority of the music industry, it was an ‘almost bankrupting’ rebellious decision.

The old man lit up when the high schooler entered his store. Some metal music with indistinguishable lyrics played overhead among rows and rows of physical media.

“Hey, Mamoru! It’s been a while!” the gruff owner, a bald man nearing late 40s, shot at the high school boy.

He flashed a grin back at the owner and met the man in an odd handshake that looked like they were about to arm wrestle. “It’s good to be back! Got anything nice in stock?”

“Oh, man, you really missed the new Mirai Tankyu song? That was a huge stir. Suba even had some goon come in here to buy up all the copies.” The owner pulled up a bin and banged it on the counter. “You should have seen the guy; he didn’t even seem human. Creepy as all get out. Anyway, check it out. It’s song 5, but the whole album’s great.”

The cartridge resembled any standard one for a game system. Small and compact, with the album art seeming like it could be for a video game. The perfect thing to keep hidden from people who may not like it. This particular cartridge featured a picture of the blue twintailed Mirai, winking at the viewer—a lovingly hand-drawn piece, with no clear image generation to soil the songs that lay within.

Mamoru smiled and wandered over to the store-provided players; he had left his own at home and popped in the cartridge. Mirai’s synthesized voice came through, accompanied by a boppy pop beat, tuned with enough care to almost pass as human.

What is this supposed to be? The sword muttered in an unhappy tone. Apparently, it was not a good judge of music. Perhaps they would never get along.

As Mamoru listened, he looked out into the rest of the store. Though it was getting late, there were still a couple of folks in there. Notably, a girl in a Tendo High uniform with floofy purple hair. She backed into the door while trying to move away from two guys hounding her. Her face aimed downward, and her expression showed clear discomfort. The music drowned out Mamoru’s ability to hear anything, but she seemed to blurt something and burst out. The men laughed and followed after.

What pigs. Surely you can kill these fools.

I’m not going to kill, Mamoru thought as he rolled his eyes. He, however, didn’t like the sight and figured he could pursue for a while. It had at least been a minute since he got into a good brawl. Cash dropped on the counter as he ran by, and he barely heard the owner give thanks before darting out the door.

Night completely blanketed the city, but the lights all around were so bright it was hard to tell. In the distance, he saw the girl rush into an alley, and the two men followed nonchalantly.

I sense twisted magic.

That was a new one. It made Mamoru reach for the sword. It was just an instant, but that’s all that was needed for his hand to get comfortable on the hilt. Yes. Yes. Do it. He shook his head and lurched forward. The alley was dark, so much so that he could only see silhouettes of the people down it.

“You see, you really shouldn’t follow after me,” the girl was saying in a forced tone.

Kill them. They have it coming. Then slash the girl while you are at it.

Mamoru drew the blade from the bag. It was long and thin, with a golden hilt and polished blade. The edge seemed dull, but that made it all the more dangerous. It could still cut, and he had a bandaged finger to prove it. He flipped the sword backwards and wrapped his uniform shirt inside out around his head like a superhero mask.

Mamoru’s movements were as swift as a bird’s. He drove the back of the blade into the stomach of the first man, then kicked the second to the ground. Both went unconscious way easier than he would have expected, but their groans of pain told him they were alive. Whatever twisted magic the sword sensed must have been a lie to spur him to action. They were just two fools, not at all the kind of practice that would serve him any good.

At least hit them one more time!

Mamoru ignored the sword and quickly looked at the girl. She seemed shocked, and perhaps a little frustrated as she stared with squinted eyes, but he didn’t bother to worry. He gave a salute and ran back into the illuminated streets.