The Guardian

Hours of drowning passed in endless suffering. Time ceased to mean anything in the near repeated brushes with death. Pulled straight into the maw of the reaper and taunted with the gates, only to hover until the last second. And then reeled back in like a raw fish. Each return shaved away a little more sanity. Each waking carved away another piece of self.

It was sadistic in pleasure. Like the purpose ceased, and it was just to bathe in suffering. They were unlike anyone that he had faced. A darkness birthed from division and strengthened by jealousy. The worst sort of sorcerer.

But before his mind could break, his body did. Unconsciousness saved him from further interrogation. Even if it would only resume the moment that he came to reality. A frayed moment of peace would have come as relief were he conscious to enjoy it. His body struggled to recover in the time it had.

However, Yori couldn’t be allowed peace. He was rudely returned to reality, drenched in cold water. Gasping and spitting out some of the water, he tried to get a sense of time. There were no windows, and all the faces looked the same. ‘Dammit…I don’t have any choice…’

Yori whipped his head back, trying to clear away some of the water still dripping down. His weakened body felt the bite more acutely. It came as a strange sense. It had been a while. But it was still there. Mana, just in reach. This hadn’t spent him, just stripped him away. Focus was needed.

His torturer stepped forward, still holding the magic item. Yori forced himself to focus. He was only going to have a moment before it all started again. “We resume, dog.”

Once in range, Yori summoned up his tattered strength to pull up his legs. In a blur, he wrapped his legs around the man’s neck. Though, as he already expected, they looked thoroughly unimpressed. “Still that much energy in you.” The item started to glow, but Yori didn’t wait. The grapple was never the point, just the distraction.

He lifted his loose arms off the hook that strung him up. Yori tore away the eye patch. Forcing his left eye open, a white, pale iris appeared with an “X” shape carved over it. It then glowed white, burning away to reveal a deeply complex fractal magic array underneath that never ended the further in it went. An abyss of unknowing spiraled down it. Chaos formed in order.

Immediately, it was recognized by the man as he threw Yori off him. “The Guardian, you are the government’s dog. Thought you were just a rumor.”

Yori dragged himself up as the mana from him spun the air around him, spreading white into the entire chamber. “That’s how I prefer it.” The array in his eye spread out, covering the entire property of the building.

A moment later, the rest of the sorcerers looked around in confusion while their boss just ground his teeth in annoyed frustration. And then pain racked them. The weaker-willed sorcerers collapsed almost immediately with flares of red mana bleeding from their skin. Only the scarred man still stood, but sweated clearly under strain as his skin glowed red.

It was the only chance he would have. Yori picked up Miho and focused everything on his legs. He bolted from the storehouse, finding the path out of the building. Yori didn’t stop until they reached the car.

His body remained too rattled to properly focus his strength. The chains couldn’t be broken. But he had a mana cutter to free them. With that, he hit the gas and sped out of the neighborhood. They needed as much distance as they could.

A faint groan came from the passenger seat. Miho started to wake briefly. She looked even worse off than him. Death nearly wore itself like a scarf on her neck. Pale and thin, she lost much of the fire from her eyes. But she had a moment of awareness to see Yori’s face and eye. She then passed out again.

When he had enough consciousness, Yori took note of the sky and time. It was well into the morning with the sun breaking through the skyscrapers in the distance. He looked at the clock and groaned at how much time they lost. And then the floating numbness of his body still only made him croak roughly.

It wasn’t until the streets were crammed full with life that he reached his home. The moment that the car came to a stop, his head nearly hit the wheel as he passed out. He remained still for a few seconds before jolting himself awake. They needed to at least get out of the car.

He forced himself to move. His legs were lead and his arms noodles. His eyes hardly wanted to stay open, but he fought against the urges. Yori marched over to the passenger side and lifted the still unconscious Miho out.

It was one time he felt grateful for an elevator. And with some relief, it was after most people left for work or school. There was no one that he needed to share it with. No suspicious stares for carrying a woman around.

Up on the fifth floor, he hurried along to juggle her weight and opened the door. His body normally wouldn’t balk at what he did, but it struggled to hold together. But once he had the door locked behind him, he put Miho on his bed and collapsed on the floor. The couch sounded good, but even the wood didn’t feel so bad. It was cool and inviting, stripping him away from reality.

And he was out almost immediately.

Darkness faded in and out for him. It captured him deeply. A strange, warm embrace found him. Perhaps from all of the torture and near-death experiences, anything normal was just like a hug. But he just accepted the rare comfort.

The smell of cooking eggs hung in the air to wake him. ‘There’s food…’ Yori rolled over, remembering that he dropped to the floor. Though he didn’t recall having a blanket on him. Pulling it off, he stood up to look at the bed. She wasn’t there. Then the food came to him again.

He hurriedly walked out of the bedroom into the adjoining living room and kitchen combo. Behind the counter, he found Miho’s hair tied back with half of his cabinets laid out over the kitchen, cooking with his stove. “I’m glad you asked before making something.”

“I didn’t know when ye’d be up. I need something to eat.”

“You could have been a little less messy about it.”

“I’ll clean it up when I'm done.”

Pulling out a stool from the counter, he sat down. His body had mostly recovered thankfully. Though he didn’t feel like stressing it for the moment. “I would hope so.”

“I see torture hasn’t made ye less of an ass.”

“And you haven’t stopped blindly charging on.”

They stared at each other, nearly making electricity fly from their glares. But Yori broke first and looked away. She had to be suffering worse than him.

“So you’re a Shinobi. When were ye gonna tell me that little secret?”

Yori sighed into a groan. She remembered. It was already exposed, but he hoped she didn’t realize or recall it. But he couldn’t avoid it.

The truth had to come out.