Chapter 32: Our Souls

Taichi pushed himself upright slowly, one hand clutching his head as the last echoes of pain throbbed behind his eyes.

From the side, Meguri laid in shock, her jaw dropped. She had no idea how to react.

“…You,” she whispered. “It took you long enough to wake up, idiot.”

“You’re starting to talk like Asumi, Meguri,” Taichi chuckled.

Meguri was taken aback for a moment before forming a small smile.

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t break down and start confessing my lo-”

“AH AH AH!” Asumi cut in immediately, face blazing red. “I– I mean, I… it wasn’t, I mean… yeah, but – it’s just… umm… how much do you remember now that your memory’s back, Taichi?”

Taichi blinked, then smiled faintly.

“Everything… even from when my memories were gone,” he said quietly, lowering his gaze. “I’m sorry. For attacking you. Both of you.”

Asumi’s shoulders stiffened.

“Everything…?” she asked, not looking at him.

“Oh, uh…” Taichi glanced at Asumi, who was red up to the ears, realizing the situation immediately. “I… well…”

“I don’t think Taichi heard that thing you said earlier, Asumi,” Meguri teased. “You’re gonna have to say it again.”

Both of them turned scarlet instantly.

“You don’t have to say anything right now, Asumi!” Taichi said instantly, rubbing the back of his head. “After all… we made a promise, right? We’ll talk after all of this is over. About the bet, about the future, about the things I didn’t hear… we can talk about all of it.”

“Liar…” Asumi muttered. “I know you heard me, idiot.”

“What do you want from me?” Taichi groaned, face burning. “Fine, I heard you, and I want to talk about it more after all of this, okay?! I’ll tell you how I feel too… so let’s just…”

A sudden metallic crash echoed down the hallway.

All three of them froze.

“Should we… check that out?” Meguri asked.

Asumi exhaled, already turning toward it.

“Taichi and I will go – Meguri, you go back to Kodaka Sensei and see if there’s anything in a hospital room here that can help him.”

Meguri nodded instantly and sprinted off.

“Meguri really saved us, huh?” Taichi chuckled, watching her disappear around the corner. “The last line of defense. I guess that’s part of the reason you don’t want her to confront the headmaster, huh?”

“She’s done plenty already… it’s up to us now,” Asumi nodded, grabbing her sword from the ground.

“Asumi – I think Kishimoto Akihiko is in that room… I’ll take care of him,” Taichi said.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” Asumi argued.

“Listen to the sounds,” Taichi said, pausing.

From inside the room, one set of footsteps could be heard, scurrying around. However, from around the hospital, softer but plentiful sounds began to echo across the pristine halls.

“Project NATSU units,” Taichi said quietly. “They’ll slow me down. I need you to keep them off me.”

Asumi hesitated – then nodded.

“...you’re right,” Asumi surrendered. “It would be stupid for me to go in. You’re immune to the memory manipulation when you have your pendant off, and I’m not. You’re right. Just… make good decisions, alright?”

Taichi nodded.

“I promise.”

The two of them walked down the hall and found the door where the noises came from, standing outside the locked door.

Asumi put her hand on the handle, flowing mana into it and melting the lock mechanism.

“Don’t die,” Asumi muttered as the door popped open.

The footsteps around the hospital began closing in quickly toward Asumi as the door shut behind her, Taichi entering the room.

The room inside barely resembled a hospital.

Drawers hung open, their contents spilled across the floor. Papers lay trampled underfoot, syringes scattered everywhere.

Kishimoto stood hunched over a cabinet, rifling through it with shaking hands.

“Taichi…” Kishimoto muttered, his disheveled face glancing backward. “Of course you woke up. I shouldn’t have expected anything less from Rintaro’s son.”

“It’s over,” Taichi said, his fingers wrapping around the hilt of his sword.

“No, Taichi… it’s far from over,” Kishimoto said, a wide smile tracing his face.

He straightened, spreading his arms slightly, as if presenting the wreckage around them.

“What is your plan, may I ask? Are you going to kill me? Is your goal to restore the memories of every single subject? Take your revenge for your father?”

“Yes,” Taichi responded without hesitation. “You have done so much damage to so many lives, and taking yours to restore everybody else is the only path forward.”

“But that’s where you’re wrong, kid,” Kishimoto said. “Sure, be the hero. Restore everybody’s memories. But then what? There are hundreds of my subjects with multiple aspects – just like the Natsu’s that you’ve fought in the past. If they all get their memories restored, what happens to the world?”

Kishimoto grabbed a flask and threw it to the ground, shattering it.

“That. You don’t know what you’re unleashing onto the world. You think I’m corrupt? The moment you kill me, the moment these people have their memories back… sure, maybe they’ll be grateful to you… but then what comes next? They’re weapons more powerful than anybody, and there will be hundreds of them with free will. There is nothing more dangerous than a weapon with free will, Hayato Taichi.”

Taichi’s sword began to fall hesitantly, unsure of what to think anymore.

From outside, he heard the clash of swords and explosions of mana echoing across, blaring into their ears.

Taichi’s grip tightened again, staring down the headmaster confidently.

“I wasn’t a weapon,” he said. “Tadokoro wasn’t. Natsu wasn’t.”

“They were,” Kishimoto snarled.

“No,” Taichi said, lifting his gaze. “We are people. You can’t convince me that we aren’t. I won’t accept it.”

He took a step forward.

“You don’t get to decide who deserves their memories.”

Kishimoto’s smile cracked.

“You think you’re better than me?” he hissed. “You think Rintaro was?”

Taichi stopped.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Taichi glanced away toward the chaos beyond the closed door, and his resolve settled.

“The only one too dangerous to live,” he said quietly, “is you.”

The sword fell.

Blood splashed across the broken glass, scattering red across white.

Kishimoto collapsed without another word.

Suddenly, the explosions outside stopped.

When Taichi opened the door again, the hallway had gone eerily still.

Every NATSU unit lay on the floor, clutching their heads, faces twisted in pain. Some screamed. Some only trembled.

He swiftly closed the door behind him.

Asumi stood nearby, chest heaving, soot smudged across her uniform.

“It’s over,” Taichi whispered, his eyes dark as he walked past Asumi, in the direction of where Kodaka and Meguri were resting.

Asumi nodded, following him quietly.

They found Meguri beside Kodaka, who was slumped against the wall, pale and shaking.

“Isshiki, they’re back,” Kodaka said weakly, using all his strength to point at the conquering heroes.

Meguri quickly wiped her tears away.

“Is it… over?” Meguri asked, her voice still huffy.

“It is,” Taichi nodded.

Asumi walked away in silence, off into the distance.

“Where is she…?” Meguri trailed off, but Taichi shook his head.

“She’s doing something important,” Taichi said, kneeling down to Kodaka.

“Is he dead?” Kodaka asked.

Taichi hesitated for a moment… then nodded.

“Good,” Kodaka exhaled, long and tired. “Guess my work here… is finally done.”

“Not yet, big guy,” Taichi said, tapping Kodaka’s head. “Can’t die yet.”

Asumi came walking back, with a figure walking beside her.

“Damn, you really wanna make this old man cry in his last moments, huh?” Kodaka said with a light chuckle.

From the end of the hallway, Tadokoro Shoko rushed down, her eyes puffy with tears as they continued to stream down her face.

“Dad!”

She dropped to her knees, clutching him, tears soaking his sleeve.

“I’m sorry… I’m so, so sorry…”

Shoko clung to Kodaka’s arm as tightly as she could, her tears flowing down her father’s arm.

“So… your memories are back too, huh?” Kodaka asked.

Shoko nodded slightly.

“I remember… I remember everything.”

“Good… then I can be happy,” Kodaka said, his tears beginning to well up.

“You can’t die…” Shoko said, shaking her head, but Asumi rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Let him die with a smile,” Asumi said, tears starting to well up in his own eyes.

Shoko clenched her fist and shut her eyes, clinging to her father’s arm desperately.

“Thank you… thank you for everything, Dad…”

Kodaka smiled.

“Well look at that… I was a crappy teacher, but maybe I wasn’t that bad of a dad…” Kodaka said weakly. “I’m glad.”

With those words, life finally faded out of his eyes.

Tadokoro Kodaka was dead.