Illusion

While Hiroshi spat blood from his mouth, the armour behind him drew the sword slowly from his back. Once it had pulled it free, it readied itself to deliver another blow.

"It isn't my way to torture my prey, and it doesn't seem you'll confess in any case. It would be quicker to storm the army headquarters and search for it myself. So you can die now."

The samurai snapped his fingers, and the armour began to move, aiming its sword at Hiroshi's neck. Hiroshi seized his sword with what strength he had left, turning quickly and setting the blade in front of his body, letting the force of the swing shove him hard enough to lift him a little off the ground. He struck the earth and tumbled over several times before his body came to rest near the edge of the lake.

"Heh, I didn't expect you still had this much strength in you to dodge that blow. That's genuinely impressive."

Hiroshi forced himself to stand, leaning on his sword. When he was finally upright, his eyes could barely make out what was around him, and his breath came with terrible difficulty. He had no choice but to rely on his hearing to keep pace with what was happening. Even so, he could not sense that the man was already standing in front of him, sword raised.

"Good night."

In that instant, when he thought his guard was down, Hiroshi turned his sword towards the man's neck with all the resolve he had left. That last struggle stirred anger in the samurai boy. He chose not to evade, and took the attack on his own blade. When the paths of their swords crossed, black blood ran from the samurai's neck where a scratch had caught him, while Hiroshi's blade was cut through the middle and fell to the ground.

The samurai returned his sword to its sheath and grabbed Hiroshi by the neck. "What do you say? Do you feel like telling me where the book is now?" the samurai said, drawing a small smile.

Hiroshi was in a state where breathing came hard, so it would not have been strange for him to die at any moment. Then broken words came out in a quiet voice that barely reached the ears of the man before him.

"Why... are all of you fools to this degree. Why would you think... that I would keep the book on me all this... all this time."

The samurai let out a heavy sigh, and answered him. "I already knew that from the start. But what about you? Why go this far to protect that book? Or are you trying to prevent another catastrophe? Don't tell me you're trying to become a hero in this age."

Hiroshi's awareness faded little by little. As everything went black before his eye, only a single word reached him.

A hero, is it...

Like an old film reel, he saw scenes from different periods of his life. And among those short films, one scene settled in his mind.

· · ·

At the King's army headquarters, deep within that vast building, there was a space set aside for training, ringed by the buildings of the general headquarters. In one of the corridors that looked out over that space, Hiroshi was walking behind a tall figure with silken golden hair. That back, adorned with a long red cloak and black feathers at the neck, was all Hiroshi could see of the man. Then the man spoke to him.

"How is the army after the battle of the dam? Are the losses heavy?"

Though he was looking straight ahead, Hiroshi was entirely lost in thought, and of course the man's words did not reach him.

The man stopped and called out more loudly. "Hiroshi?"

As though he had woken from a dream, Hiroshi answered. "Huh... what is it? My King!!"

The man turned to him then, and with those dark red eyes looked at him, puzzled by his words. "What's this all of a sudden? Why are you calling me that? Since when do you treat me with such formality? What's happened to you? You've been lost in thought this whole time. Are you all right?"

Hiroshi sighed and answered him. "It's nothing. It's only that a king shouldn't be treated this way in front of the common folk. It'll affect your reputation, as you know."

"That doesn't matter to me at all. I've no interest in people's opinions of my character. And besides..."

While they were talking, they each heard the sound of people fighting and running about the place. The King and Hiroshi looked towards the space. Several men of the King's army were chasing a small boy. The King asked, "What's going on here?"

Hiroshi answered him. "It seems he's an intruder who broke into the place."

A number of the knights gathered in the space and surrounded the boy. Then they seized him and pinned him to the ground.

"Looks like it's over. Shall we go now? Garth is waiting for you."

The King stood without moving, his eyes fixed on the boy in the space as he struggled to break free from the soldiers' grip. Then he smiled and laughed, and came forward towards the space.

"Wait, Leith. Where are you going?"

Hiroshi followed after him, sighing with exhaustion.

As the King drew near, his attention was caught by the shape of that boy, whose hair was intensely white. He looked at his face, and his gaze met the boy's two red eyes, which were fiercely hostile to everyone around him. The King smiled and signalled to the soldiers holding him to draw back a little from him. Then the King sat down in front of him, closer than two metres, while Hiroshi stood behind him to support him.

"You. Why did you come to this place?" the King asked the white-haired boy in that manner.

The other answered him. "To fight alongside the King's army and end this war. But they won't let me join because of my young age. This is stupid. Why would you care how old I am?"

The King laughed and answered him. "You're absolutely right. This isn't the time to be acting sensibly. And yet, what can a boy like you do for a war like this? Can you change anything on your own?"

The boy held in his hand a katana that was white in its entirety, and at the mouth of the sheath the sword was tied with a long blue thread. The boy raised the sword before the King's face and answered him.

"That's something I'll find out on the battlefield. I'll search for the meaning of this war, no, of this life, with this sword. Everyone in this kingdom looks to the King, asking him to fight and rid them of this war. They've surrendered to their weakness and their helplessness, so they've lost their own worth. Then they go and lay the blame on their king because he does nothing. Truly, what a rotten society. That's why I will be the one to rid them of this war."

The King was surprised by that answer, and it only added to his excitement and interest in the conversation. "And you, what do you make of that King? Don't you think it's his duty to end this war?"

"A people who can't protect themselves will never stand on their own feet. It isn't about this war. Even if it ended somehow, their hearts would still be inhabited by fear and helplessness, and another war would begin in some other way. What if the King didn't exist? Would they accept their deaths, or would they look for someone else to protect them? This chain of wars will never end so long as they depend on others."

The boy's eyes were firm and steady, full of a confidence and strength that left no room for doubt. That boy was not joking. It left Hiroshi unable to speak, stunned by what he had heard.

The King answered him. "Then tell me, how will you stop this war? Can you change it yourself?"

"It's simple. You don't have to become a hero to change something. But if you can't change yourself, you won't be able to change anything."

The reel of memories stopped in that moment, and the other things he recalled were blurred. The First King laughing in his loud voice. A blind girl with white hair. And finally, that promise to that person.

· · ·

While the samurai held Hiroshi by the neck, he no longer felt any movement from him.

"Has he finally lost consciousness? I think I'll finish my work for today quickly."

Then words came out of Hiroshi's mouth in a voice of deep calm.

"If you... can't change... yourself. You won't... be able to change..."

In that instant Hiroshi gathered what strength he had left. He raised his broken sword and tried to drive it into the samurai's neck. But before it could touch him, the samurai struck Hiroshi's hand with the edge of his blade, severing his fingers along with the broken sword, both tumbling through the air. Amid that blood, Hiroshi's face appeared to the samurai, drawing a warm smile across his features, and it left the man in a state of shock. Without realising it, he let go of him, and Hiroshi dropped to his knees.

"You. Why are you smiling? I've seen many pretend at strength in the face of death. But that was never more than a desperate attempt to escape their own reality. And because I've seen so many of those masks, I can tell that you're not like that."

Hiroshi laughed a faint laugh, followed by broken words. "Well, for my part, I don't know either. I saw the face of an old friend laughing at me, mocking the state I'd come to. Maybe I wanted to mock him back, or perhaps, as you said, I'm only pretending at strength."

He lifted his head towards the sky and stared into those grey clouds with his single eye.

"You asked me why I risk my life for this, despite being nothing but an ordinary man. Why I still fight against this reality. It's terribly simple. I only wanted to try to change. I didn't want to depend on someone else. I want to change myself for the better. Then, I'm certain, something will surely change."

An image formed among the clouds, of a boy with black hair and a white strand at his crown, his face entirely blurred. Hiroshi burst out laughing when he remembered him, and said, "But it seems I failed at that. I couldn't rely on myself to the very end. Isn't that funny? I thought I already understood it, but the world isn't... isn't as easy as I'd expected."

The samurai returned his sword to its sheath and turned to leave the place. Before he moved, he said, "Your effort wasn't wasted. Perhaps you didn't achieve the thing you had in mind. But at the very least, you changed something in this wandering butcher. You protected your duty to the fullest."

When he heard those words, Hiroshi had lost all his strength, and his body fell backwards, tears flying from his eye. He fell into the lake, the water around him staining with the red of blood.

As he sank, he laughed a little at hearing a distant voice calling his name.

I feel at ease, for some reason. It isn't bad... The stillness of this water makes me terribly drowsy... I think I'll sleep a little. I haven't seen Haizaki at all lately. That boy... I never told him to look after himself... yet.

In the darkness of that lake, Hiroshi's body sank quietly, and out of that darkness a great blue light lit up the black of that depth. A large round light, like someone's eye. Then it faded slowly into that blackness...