THE SHRINE OF TWO MOONS PART 4: Reiji Vs Tsukuro's fold

Reiji’s chest buckled, his head spinning. Every attempt to gasp for air only invited more of the heavy, black water to settle in his throat like liquid lead.

Kokyu Ryoku

Forcing his diaphragm to contract, he drove the air down instead of out. With a guttural, wet retch, he expelled the black fluid from his airway, coughing it back into the swirling currents. His lungs burned but rhythm returned, steadying his heart and loosening his muscles.

Reiji dropped low into Waki-Gamae stance. By turning his left shoulder toward Tsukuro, he concealed the wakizashi behind his hip. He deliberately exposed his right side.

Tsukuro noticed surging forward, as water blades whistled through the air with arcs of pressure. Reiji pushed off his left calf like a coiled spring then pivoted diagonally, drawing the wakizashi in a silent arc. Water ruptured in an explosion of spray, the pressure detonating outward and hurling Reiji across the black water.

The spray of water hung in the air for a second before snapping back toward the center of the vortex.

Even as he fell, Reiji’s eyes never left the spot where Tsukuro had reformed. The black water beneath him surged, tendrils coiling around his ankles, dragging him down. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself upright.

Reiji shifted stances – pulling the wakizashi up to his right ear, the hilt near his shoulder, the blade pointing upwards at a 45-degree angle.

Hasso-no-Kamae.

The bait had worked —but he’d underestimated the weight behind Tsukuro’s power.

Three water blades formed at once. Two from the front, one from just behind his shoulder. Reiji stepped into the attack, rotating his wrists, and guiding the first blade to slide along his sword.

Shhhwing!

The third blade had pierced before he could turn, crushing into his ribs with concussive force. Reiji staggered, breath tearing from his lungs as the black water closed in again. Unlike Asahi, he could not sense Kishin, rendering him effectively blind to Tsukuro’s movement through the water like a shark in a chaotic mess of waves.

Reiji used Kokyu Ryoku to still his breathing.

His form is shifty, he thought, looking at the waves. Even so, he has a body so I can hurt him.

He inhaled deeply. He realized every time Tsukuro moved, a low-pitched thrum sound vibrated through the water. It was a ripple that grew denser as Tsukuro got closer. The water beneath his left felt heavier than the water beneath his right.

He exhaled.

Five feet. Three feet

The water solidified into a thin blade aiming at his torso. Reiji pivoted on his right heel, swapping hands mid-spin and slicing.

There

Tsukuro flickered into view, a deep gash tearing through his side, water spraying outward, struggling to reassemble.

“How did....?” Tsukuro gasped. You cut me....?”

Reiji was already moving, shifting into a low stance. Tsukuro snapped two fingers together, compressing water instantly into a crescent of spinning pressure. Reiji pivoted late, the edge kissing his ribs, landing awkwardly as the surface beneath him liquefied again, a tendril surging upward to drag him under.

He spun immediately, executing a downward slice that split the wave in half and kept his balance.

Tsukuro reformed to his left, cackling. “Ahh! Even that didn’t work?!” 

He stood on one foot, a wide grin on his face.

“Do not get me wrong. I am still vexed that you managed to hurt me but I am so glad you’re stronger than those useless priests yesterday.”

“You defile this shrine….” Reiji sneered, biting on his lower lip. “…..then mock those who maintain it?”

“Why not? They sounded funny!” Tsukuro mimicked a sob. “‘Please spare me...’”

Reiji’s visions swarm in a red haze. That mockery made him snap, disrupting his breathing rhythm; Kokyu Ryoku receded. His grip on the wakizashi tightened. Tsukuro remained on one foot until the sword struck his neck but upon impact, he hardened his neck into ice. The vibration screamed up Reiji’s arms, nearly dislocating his wrists.

Then suddenly, Reiji’s ears popped as water forced its way into his ear canals. He forced his fingers to loosen, adopting a “cat-like” grip, firm in the pinky and light in the thumb.

Something is wrong…..

I can't...breathe..

The air in his lungs felt heavy, like there was no oxygen to draw from. He couldn't keep up with Kokyu Ryoku.

“Tsk tsk….silly little samurai,” Tsukuro spoke softly. “I thought mentioning those priests would anger you. It gave me the perfect moment to launch my attack.”

Reiji fell to one knee as the blood vessels in his eyes began to burst from the external pressure.

“You feel it, don’t you? That’s my ultimate art……. Shinku Rin.”

The pressure intensified.

The moisture on Reiji’s eyeballs evaporated in an instant, leaving his vision a searing, dry blur. His skin felt as though it were being peeled back by invisible hooks as the gases in his. His brain, starved of oxygen, began to misfire, his fingers twitching, unable to close around the wakizashi.

Tsukuro watched with fascination. “Look at you.”

Reiji fell forward, his forehead slamming into the black water. The blood vessels in his nose and ears rupture, the warm fluid instantly boiling off.

I…Breathe dammit

Tsukuro’s fingers slowly tightened as if squeezing an invisible sphere.

Reiji stopped trying to inhale. Kokyu Ryoku was never about the lungs. It was about drawing in the world’s ambient Kishin and compressing it into the abdomen to generate force. He clenched his jaw and compressed inward, his veins bulging as he redirected what little oxygen remained in his blood.

His Kishin stirred, folding back on itself, threading through his bloodstream like liquid silver.

Kokyu Ryoku: Second Form – Breath of Silver

His heartbeat slowed to a heavy, thudding rhythm. Each pulse slammed oxygen through his body in tight cycles, reinforcing cell walls and slowing tissue decay. 

That cleared his vision just enough to see Tsukuro’s fingers twitch.

Tsukuro leaned forward, delighted. “You’re still alive? No…don’t tell me…. you’re moving without air?”

Reiji couldn’t waste oxygen speaking. His muscles screamed as he forced himself upright, ankles locking. His blood thickening into silver around his joints like armor, dulling the tearing pain but amplifying the strain. 

Every movement felt like dragging his body through gravity.

Tsukuro’s eyes widened, tightening his fingers. “That’s impossible. You should be unconscious.”

Reiji raised his wakizashi slowly. Every motion was a calculation now,

How much oxygen for a step?

How much Kishin to circulate before his tendons collapsed?

Like a bullet, he launched. The sudden acceleration tore a shockwave through the water, blasting Tsukuro's form backward, unravelling into a chaotic spray before reassembling mid-air and tightening his fingers again.

Reiji landed hard, fingers buzzing as the silver bled out of the sword and back into his bloodstream.

Tsukuro tilted his head, eyes glowing. “You’re vibrating.”

Adjusting his stance, he slashed again but the motion sent a spike up his forearm, trembling violently afterward, fingers locking for half a second before releasing.

Almost there. I just need more.

Tsukuro raised water around his ankles and snapped his fingers. A pressure wave slammed into Reiji’s side with force. Reiji blocked but the impact hurled him airborne, crashing across the black water. He hit hard, coughing. 

His left arm went dead.

“There we go. You feel that?” Tsukuro crooned, drifting closer. “That’s cellular starvation. How many seconds do you think you have left? Ten? Five?”

Reiji gripped the wakizashi with his right hand only, planting his feet. The silver Circulation was unravelling now. He could feel it— his left side lagging, his heartbeat desynchronizing from his movements. Breath of Silver was eating him from the inside. 

This technique wasn’t meant to sustain a fight.

Ten seconds would be generous.

Tsukuro watched him calmly, fingers still curled, Shinku Rin compressing the world.

“You’re done,” he said. “You can’t even lift that arm anymore.”

Reiji loosened his grip.

Tsukuro blinked as the wakizashi suddenly spun through the air. Reflexively, he shifted his focus, tightening pressure around the incoming sword to crush its momentum. The sword slowed, wobbling in the distorted air, but the distraction was enough.

By the time Tsukuro looked back, Reiji was already there.

Tsukuro’s eyes widened. He tried to liquefy his form to slip away into the black water but he couldn’t. Shinku Rin demanded total control of the local pressure, meaning there was no fluid path left for him to flow into.

“Get back…!” Tsukuro hissed, his fingers jerking tighter.