The Old Sword has a Bit of History

Home was neither sweet nor felt like home. Yet the place was all Mamoru had. He shuffled inside, tossing his helmet and jacket onto a nearby shelf, and stood in the dark house for a moment. There was no one to greet him, just dead silence that came in worse contrast compared with the overwhelming wash of noise that filled the downtown.

This place is a pigsty.

Only now, the silence could be broken by the sword that insisted on never shutting up. It was true he had let mountains of boxes fill up in one corner, and dishes fill the sink like a mass grave, but he didn’t need to be reminded.

“Well, excuse me,” he muttered with a roll of his eyes. He dropped the sword onto the table with a thud. The fridge was sparse to say the least, but not empty. Mamoru pulled out some leftover curry and began to eat there with the fridge light still illuminating part of the kitchen.

Are you seriously eating that cold?

Even from a distance, the sword could still enter his thoughts. Presumably, if Mamoru left it at home and went very far away, the thoughts might stop, but that was only a hypothetical at this point. He wasn’t sure he could leave the sword now, as the thought of leaving it ached at the back of his mind—likely part of the curse.

It didn’t matter either way; what did was the sudden attitude. When he first picked up the blade, it could hardly say anything other than ‘kill,’ but now it seemed it was changing. Mamoru could only think it was due to his talking back to the sword, thinking it was learning or changing from the input of more words. Perhaps the cursed blade was something like the AI Subarashii had put out recently? Some of the magic theory the high schooler had read on did posit that what mages would normally refer to as ‘chants’ were nothing more than an ancient form of coding, which, if true, meant a magical AI should be possible; it was even likely the constructs Subarashii put out used magic in some way.

Mamoru shook his head and continued to stuff his face. The super detailed stuff was a bit above him either way, that’s why he tried to hunt down a magic sword in the first place.

“You are not my mother, heck, you aren’t even human,” Mamoru replied with mouth full. The sword made a grumbling sound within his mind, but didn’t offer any retort. The high schooler’s voice turned to a mocking tone, “Why do you even care? Can I not kill as effectively if I eat cold curry?”

Never mind me then. Do what you want. Idiot.

Now the sword was giving him sass? Mamoru resealed his leftovers and slid them into the fridge. He marched to the kitchen table and planted himself in the seat where the sword lay. What was this thing really? He couldn’t help but wonder if there was something even more. He went with the intent of getting a cursed blade for his vengeance, and now it was acting like a tsundere? That was not his preferred dere type, so at the very least, that certainly could not stand.

He sighed and thought of something to say. What could you say to a cursed sword? The thing was supposedly ancient, coming from the old feudal period, so perhaps history could be a topic? Maybe he was just the bigger idiot for even trying to talk to it.

He tried a different approach.

“So, since you seem to have calmed down, why do you want me to kill so much?”

You said yourself, I am just a sword, did you expect to chop wood?

“Okay then,” Mamoru scratched at his scalp. The conversation seemed to be going nowhere fast. “Well, to be honest, I heard through the rumor mill that there was a cursed sword, and I thought it might give me powers to slice through steel and shred guns with ease.”

Saying it out loud cut Mamoru deep down. It was as if those junior high days of imagining he had fantastic powers hadn’t been as buried as he had hoped. Yet, it was simply true. He needed the power if he had any chance to take back Mae. Just enough to break through doors and disarm security without actually removing their limbs.

Well then, who is Mae? He had forgotten the sword could read his thoughts. It felt like a massive breach of privacy, but in a world with Suba Corp over nearly everything, there wasn’t much to begin with.

“My sister. She… isn’t here right now and I need to get her back.” Mamoru wasn’t sure how much the sword could read his thoughts, but if he didn’t dwell on the issue, maybe he could keep it to himself.

Older or younger? It didn’t press where he didn’t want, so he would take that as a small win for now.

“Older, by a couple years.”

I had an older sister myself. It was rough losing her.

Mamoru nodded as he accepted the sympathy before his brow furrowed. Older sister? Another sword? That didn’t make any sense.

“Wait. Wait. What are you talking about?”

The sword was quite a moment. It was a long minute that left the high schooler sitting in the dark and listening to the ticking clock on the wall. He began to drum his fingers on the table and only stopped when the sword spoke up again.

Would you believe me if I told you I was once human? The voice was suddenly more earnest, clearer. Some distortion fell away, and it even sounded a bit more human.

“I would first think you are simply trying to trick me into murdering again, though I can’t see how you would get to that end. Perhaps you can explain why you were so bent on killing before?”

The sword sighed.

I already said before, this is a sword, and that is what swords do. I am not sure I can explain it any other way, but if you treat a hammer like a hammer, it will drive nails in—do you follow?

He most certainly did not follow, but the voice sounded like it was trying to be genuine enough, so as long as he stuck to his guns as it was when it was berating him with thoughts of murder, he should stay safe. He could at least entertain this development a little while longer.

“Very well then, what is your name?”

Hikari. Formerly princess Hikari Watanabe, there should be some history books about… my family all perishing in the revolution.

“Hmm.” The attempt was interesting to say the least. The voice seemed to be taking on a ‘princess-y’ quality, and using a historical name brought with it easy to look up facts in case he wanted to quiz her. How a sword could have learned those facts was impossible as far as he knew, owing to a certain amount of credibility if she knew the answers.

“Alright, Hikari, we will say that is the case for now. I have little reason to play twenty questions and try to verify anyway. My question is, what do you want?”

I’m surprised you would ask me. You bought a sword for battle; don’t you just want to use it?

Mamoru pressed his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together so he could rest his chin on them. He stared into the dark, empty house. Memories of brighter times, louder times tried to push their way into the forefront of his mind, but now wasn’t the time for them.

“Let’s just say it’s not my style to force someone to do something they don’t want. Even if that someone is a magic sword.” The sword went quiet for another stretch of time. To the point, Mamoru began to wonder if there was a time limit to talking, and he would have to wait until tomorrow to pick up the conversation. “Um, Hikari.”

He heard a sniffle within his mind. How that even worked was a mystery that he would file in unsolvable. Her voice continued again, this time even more clear and decidedly soft.

Sorry, there was an issue with the connection. Magic… can be weird sometimes…. There are still blood relatives of those who destroyed my family, and my sole desire was for their heads…. Don’t bother saying it, I know you won’t kill, you’ve proven that today, and I don’t want you to either. It’s like a dark cloud has been lifted.

“So, what do you want?”

Vengeance, some other way perhaps. Taking them down should free me from this prison, or at least I think that is what would happen, so perhaps defeating the highest in power would do it?

“Who would that be?”

I have been dormant for the last twenty years, but at that point, it was some CEO of a company called Subarashii.

Mamoru jumped and smacked his hands flat on the table. He had not expected that; there perhaps was some sort of arrangement he could find with the sword—with Hikari that could get them both to their goals.