Failure and pride

Atsunori can't move.

The world muffles, distant, like he's underwater. He can't drift off, though. Not yet. Not until the Elder is safe.

Through the blur, he sees the Tengu approaching, each step sluggish, but heavy with menace. Crouching now, he settles in front of Atsunori.

You going to finish me off?

Atsunori senses movement—fingers or claws, he can't tell—pressing against the torn flesh at his waist. The touch jolts fire through him. As the pressure tightens, white bursts across his vision. His breath stops.

This might be the end…

Yet the squeeze doesn't sharpen into a killing blow. It holds, steadying. The pain remains brutal, but no longer worsening. His sight swims back into focus—right into the Tengu's wicked yellow eyes, watching him far too closely for someone who meant to let him bleed out.

Then he rises and turns away, leaving only his back in Atsunori's view.

No. Stop… not the Elders.

The enemy tumbles—then rights himself. Exhaustion must be dragging at him too.

If only Atsunori could stretch his hand, latch onto a foot… immobilize him to guarantee the Elder's safety.

The Tengu moves—slow, deliberate. And then—a pop and a flicker, and he suddenly jerks, stumbling.

Atsunori bends his head with all the strength he can muster. Avery is a few feet away, shock gun locked on the enemy.

The Tengu grabs the cords and yanks, wrestling the weapon from her hands.

Weapons, that's right. Atsunori scrambles blindly, fingers brushing against cold dirt and sticky warmth. My bag… need to find it.

Avery's pepper spray flashes in motion. The Tengu snatches it away swiftly, tossing her back.

"Don't touch her, you monster!" Atsunori roars in his mind.

With crushing agony, he forces his head to twist.

There—the bag, torn open. The gun spilled out like a lifeline.

Its cold, heavy weight pushes down on his hands as he aims. His arms quiver, he can't even tell if he'll hit. The trigger clicks, recoil slamming the gun away from his hand, out of reach.

The Tengu staggers, arm on his shoulder, where more blood starts flowing. Then he turns, yanking the bullet free.

Too shallow. A standard pistol isn't enough against someone on this level.

The sound of a second shot breaks through, followed by another. Atsunori squeezes through the haze—Avery, she has her own gun somehow.

Round after round cracks in the air. The Tengu falters and his knees buckle.

After a pause, Avery throws the gun away. That was a mistake—now he knows she's empty.

A new one emerges from her bag.

How?

The Tengu flinches, then rushes away, feet dragging, scrambling—doesn't even try to fly.

Don't let him escape.

The enemy gains distance. Avery stands, motionless save from her trembling hands.

Shoot, Avery!

The Tengu slips from view.

Why? You let him escape.

The gun drops from her hands, strikes the ground, and blinks out of existence.

An illusion…

Makes sense.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Atsunori's eyes snap open the moment he realizes he's conscious. It feels like only seconds have passed since he last saw the Tengu—but the room around him tells a different story.

He's back in the hospital. Lowering his gaze to his body, he sees that his wounds have disappeared… almost. A long, white line traces across his abdomen.

It left a scar even after his regeneration and the doctor's care. How deep had the wound been?

He pushes himself upright, bitterness growing in his chest.

The enemy slipped away. A whole month of preparation—only to fail miserably. And on top of that, he's been out of commission for…

A glance at the bedside clock.

"Eight days!?"

Ready to leap out of bed and get back to work, he's stopped by a letter atop of the clock.

The family seal is stamped on the front.

Atsunori swallows—picking it up feels like handling a ticking bomb.

━━━━━━━━━━

Dear young Atsunori,

Your courage in shielding me from the attempt on my life, and on our family, will not be forgotten. The wounds you took in my place speak more loudly than any words.

Rest as long as you require. For now, your second has assumed command of the operation. Should you wish to resume leadership, speak with him; if you prefer to step back from the matter, simply inform me. You have earned the right to choose freely, without pressure.

As for my own condition, be at ease. I am recovering well at the estate. Security has been strengthened, and the guards are now equipped with firearms, though that detail is to remain known only to our fighters.

Please also relay my gratitude to the foreign girl who stood against the same threat that nearly claimed your life, despite her disadvantage. She is welcome to return whenever she wishes. Her guesthouse and attendant shall remain at her disposal.

Sincerely,

Yorinobu Munakata

━━━━━━━━━━

So… everything turned out fine. A success, even—enough to earn their pride.

To be fair, just surviving an assassin like that is nothing short of a miracle.

But what does the Elder mean about Avery being welcome to return? Had she left the estate?

Atsunori shakes his head. Whatever the answer, there are more pressing matters now. Out of routine, he pushes the call button, and picks at the meal on the tray beside him.

The person who arrives isn't the doctor he knows, but a common nurse.

"Where is doctor Munakata?"

"She has been admitted as well, I'm afraid."

Shit, of course.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

More bandages cover her body than there is exposed skin, and the caustic scent of antiseptic makes Atsunori lightheaded.

"Glad to see you well." Once again pretending like her condition isn't his fault.

"How many people did you treat?" he asks.

"Everyone who was in critical condition: yourself, Elder Yorinobu… That abomination nearly killed every fighter who crossed his path."

Her voice falters. Words halt as she catches her breath before continuing.

"At least he went easier on the non-family members, who are just regular humans. Still, two of our relatives didn't make it, and the rest are still admitted. They don't have your powers."

"And how many times did you treat me in particular?"

"Enough to save you. Though for a while, I thought I might fail."

"You're reaching your limit. You can't keep spending so much on me just because I have a better chance of surviving."

"I can, and I will." Her voice raises. "I hate how you get all preachy when you're the one almost dying. Do you realize how serious your wounds were? You got literally split in half."

"I… was what?"

"You're only alive because several miracles stacked one on top of another. When you foolishly took that windslash, it passed cleanly through you, and you were incredibly lucky that by the time you fell, your body had already begun mending your spine enough to keep you in one piece."

A whine of pain stops her, and she takes a moment to collect herself.

More calmly, she says, "Your regeneration only patched the most critical internal damage. You were still losing blood like a fountain because your body was too exhausted to heal further. Good thing that girl you found was smart enough to properly bandage you and slow the bleeding."

"So Avery saved me as well."

"And you already know what the third miracle was. You're welcome, by the way."

"I… I am truly grateful. You sacrifice so much for me and—"

"Alright, that's enough thanking. I don't want to hear it from the guy who was ten times worse than me a week ago."

With a small shift, she levels a finger at him.

"Just know this: every time you throw yourself on the line for the family, I'll do the same for you, and everyone else brought to me. So please, take care of yourself. I've cried enough deaths for the whole year after this last incident."

It's not even that he's the only person she'd go this far for.

Everyone in the family receives the same devotion. Crippling her own body for their sake.

A true martyr.

So maybe that's why, even now…

I still sometimes doubt Avery's altruism, which never seems to shine as bright as the doctor's, despite all her preaching about wanting to help.

Atsunori slaps his cheek.

"Hey, what was that for? No harming yourself on my watch," the doctor snaps.

"Sorry, just having some stupid thoughts."

"Nothing new, I suppose."

Avery risked her life against a foe that might as well have been invincible, armed with weapons that were basically toys to it.

How do I have the nerve to doubt her?