Fate of the Vanquished

“No. As a matter of fact, I think our partnership has never been better. Come on, I’ll help you.”

Akagi stood up, supporting Takeda’s weight with his body as he helped him up.

“What caused that tornado? What was that orb?” Takeda asked.

“Gyatso. That orb was his soul. He used his last moments on this plane before passing on to channel Fujin. I didn’t even know that was possible,” Akagi said.

Takeda walked in silence for a few seconds before responding.

“Truly a great man. I could tell even from our first meeting. It’s always a sad day when great men die,” Takeda said.

“Oh? Why kill a great man, then?” Akagi asked. 

“Because a great man…stood in the way of a new god.”

Akagi shook his head as he heard those words.

“And the god didn’t even find what he killed so many people for,” he said.

“We’ll find it again. Better yet if it’s with the boy. As the last of the White Order, he’s still a threat,” Takeda grumbled.

“I certainly hope he’ll be” Akagi said.

The two of them continued walking, discussing, into the night.

_ _ _

Darkness. Everything consumed by darkness. Hot. So, so hot. Can’t move, trapped underneath something.

The scent of smoke reached his nose. He began to choke, his eyes and throat tearing up and becoming irritated.

The coughing was incessant, his entire body jerking in response to the force.

The flames grew, filling the boy’s vision. Consuming him, burning his flesh and charring bone.

Ichiji woke up with a jolt. Sweat covered his entire body as he tried to catch his breath. His breaths came in fast, short bursts. Panic and fear filled his body.

‘Calm down. It’s the same dream. Where am I, anyway?’

He looked around, scanning his environment. He was in a small, bare room.

Above him, to his left, was a small window. The moonlight shone upon him through it. To the right was a bare wall, with a door placed at the ending.

Ichiji looked down at his body. His entire body was covered in a layer of bandages. He took stock of his entire body, flexing and unflexing his toes.

He did the same with his fingers, but then he realised. Only his right fingers responded. A feeling of dread immediately set into Ichiji.

He slowly raised his left arm up. It was covered in bandages just like his other arm. But it was now a stump, the rest of it missing. Ichiji’s head turned, his eyebrows furrowing in his confusion.

Then it hit him. The memories came flooding back. He knew exactly how he had lost this arm.

Akagi had beaten him. The White Order had surely been destroyed. Master Gyatso was dead.

The taste of salt hit his mouth as hot tears streamed down his face. Breathing became harder as his chest got heavy. It felt congested. Blocked. And then it happened.

Ichiji cried like he never had before. Not even like when he had lost his parents. Not even those lonely nights in the Temple. He gripped the blanket covering him, pain swelling in his knuckles as he did.

He wanted that pain. He needed it. He deserved it.

Shouts left his mouth as he continued crying. Why was he still alive? Why?

He should just end it all. End his miserable life.

Yes. That was the way. The only way.

The only way to end the pain. And it would be so easy. He would rest. He would reunite with Master Gyatso.

Ichiji’s thoughts paused as his master’s face appeared in his mind. Killing himself, is that what Master Gyatso would have wanted for him?

And then he remembered his mission.

He was supposed to save Nippon. Find Amaterasu. End the war.

Those things, those goals. They seemed so out of reach.

‘Never. I can’t do it. I’m a failure, a fraud. A weak, disgusting bastard. I couldn’t even save those closest to me’

Ichiji gripped his blanket even harder, continuing to sob painfully.

Two sharp knocks interrupted his sobs. Ichiji looked to his right, at the door where the sound was coming from.

“Um. Good evening. Are you awake?”

A melodious voice sounded from the other side. It was obviously that of a girl. Ichiji wiped his eyes, trying to remove the traces of his sadness as he spoke.

“Yes. I actually woke up a few minutes ago.” “That’s great. Well, in that case, my father would like to see you.”

Ichiji stood up, shakily at first, then walked over and opened the door to the room. A petite but beautiful girl stood in front of him. She had shoulder-length silky white hair, with black eyes and pale skin.

She was wearing a simple, perhaps worn, white kimono. She seemed to radiate light, like a merciful Kami. Ichiji was taken aback.

Her eyes pierced Ichiji with an intense curiosity mixed with…was that pity?

“Are we going to see him?” Ichiji asked, a bit tense. “Oh, yes! Right this way,” she answered.

Taking his hand, the girl led him through the house. It was a small one, and they only walked for some seconds before reaching outside.

The beautiful white moon shone, illuminating the grass he saw in front of him.

Ichiji stared up for a few seconds. The moon had been blue on that faithful night.

Just how long had he been asleep?

He looked back down to man sitting down on the grass. He looked up at the moon, seemingly ignoring Ichiji’s presence. Ichiji waited for sometime, hoping for the man to notice naturally.

After spending a few seconds standing around, it was obvious that the man was simply transfixed.

“Sir,” Ichiji called out.

The man turned around. His white hair perfectly matched that of his daughter’s.

His grey eyes darted up and down, assessing Ichiji. Ichiji did some assessment of his own.

Broad-shouldered, with a handsome but worn face that suggested hardship and wisdom beyond his years. Above all, the man seemed trustworthy. After all, if he had wanted, he could have killed him.

Once the man was satisfied with his own assessment, he opened his mouth. A gruff voice came out, forming words that confused Ichiji.

“Ichiji Ryomen. I am Sumida Tatsuya. Welcome to Tengoku Village”