Senshi

“I need heal. Heal!” Kotaro’s urgent plea reverberated through the headset. His eyes were glued to the screen, his fingers danced across the keys, and each click was more intense than the last. He worked his spells with lightning precision, the keystrokes melding into a symphony. “Rocky, where is my healing?”

“Bro, I was busy healing Ging!” Rocky’s avatar finished tending to Ging before tossing a rejuvenation spell Kotaro’s way. “Here, since you were crying about it!”

Kotaro’s health bar replenished in time to withstand the boss’ devastating attack. Together, the three friends faced their colossal adversary: Draclovania the Twin Star. Despite their formidable gear, the Queen of Dragons proved to be difficult, thwarting their attacks and momentarily disabling their abilities.

Even as Draclovania dwindled to half her health, her ferocity continued to escalate. Nasty breath weapons engulfed the battlefield in flames, her onslaught unrelenting. Draclovania’s attacks dealt considerable damage, and Rocky, the only reliable healer in the group, had trouble keeping up while tending his teammates’ health.

“Come on, we almost have her!” Kotaro alerted his friends, adrenaline fueling his every move. Another Evisceration Breath was cast upon the team. Frustration quickly arose as their avatars’ health bar disappeared in mere seconds. “Rocky, I need healing!”

“Oh come on, I just healed!” Rocky’s voice crackled back, a hint of exasperation evident in his tone.

The tables had turned against the team. Draclovania proved her might, casting her Evisceration Breath in sequence. The team watched in disbelief, helpless to overcome her aggression. Kotaro could hear keyboards being slammed in frustration.

Kotaro sighed. “We tried, boys…Draclo is too strong.”

Defeat and resignation weighed upon them, their efforts futile against the Queen of Dragons. Their avatars huddled. Dashed hopes and valiance echoed through the silence.

“Hey, we tried,” Kotaro ventured.

“Koty, we've gone against Draclo twenty times without even a glimpse of victory,” Rocky admitted, his voice holding a tinge of defeat. “I mean, if we lose again, maybe it's time to consider some... in-game purchases for better gear?”

“Come on, Rocky, don’t be like that. We agreed to keep this free-to-play,” Kotaro protested, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“But facing Draclo with our current gear feels like bringing wooden swords to a dragon fight!” Rocky's frustration surfaced. "Even the Sword of Justice isn't cutting it."

Ging, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up, his tone contemplative. "I get it, but I don't want to compromise our principles for a game."

Their conflict was palpable. They were dedicated to playing free, yet needed better equipment. Their principles were tested, and their desire to conquer.

“Look, let’s try this again tomorrow. I have to get off tonight,” Kotaro asserted. “And Rocky, don’t you dare spend any money on Final Rite!”

“No promises.” Rocky’s smirked.

They reluctantly logged out. Kotaro slumped and sighed. As he pondered, reality pressed on him. The world within his computer was far easier to navigate.

Responsibility. The unknown. At last he eased to his feet and to the hallway. There, he slipped into his jacket and shoes.

“Kotaro, where are you going? It’s late.” Amanda’s voice, laced with concern, pierced the silence.

“I’m going for a walk,” he replied softly.

“Don’t stay out too long,” she advised. Her voice trailed off as he stepped into the winter night. He wandered through the neighborhood, hoping the solitude would offer clarity. The cold air stung his skin as he ventured further, lost in his thoughts. The deserted streets certainly helped clear his mind.

As he contemplated the day’s conversation, a snowflake happily settled on his outstretched hand. The cold night was still young, a canvas of uncertainties.

“If the days keep repeating themselves, I wonder if any of this matters…” Kotaro said aloud. Before he took another step, an icy touch grasped his ankle. His body seized up. The sheer coldness spread through him like a wave. Kotaro glanced down at his feet.

The culprit appeared to be a woman in a pink, floral-patterned kimono. A startled scream escaped him. He thrust his ankle forth, but her fingers remained clamped. He thrust again. No success. She has a seriously strong grip!

“Strange sir, please don’t leave me…” The woman’s voice, soft and melodic, barely rose above a whisper. She lifted her head, her emerald gaze locking upon Kotaro’s chestnut eyes. “I am but a poor lady. Can’t you see that I am struggling to get back up on my two feet?”

With a grip like that, I’m struggling to get out. Kotaro had no other choice but to give in. “Alright, I’ll help you!”

“Really?” Her response was immediate like a dog. She sprang to her feet with an energy that belied her initial frailty, wrapping Kotaro in a grateful embrace. “Thank you so much!”

S-So cold! He freed himself from her grasp and led her to his home. Explaining the situation to his parents presented another hurdle. Their initial surprise was evident by the sight of the foreign woman. They were reluctant, but they quickly agreed to let the guest satisfy her hunger.

Moments later, he watched his pantry be emptied. She stretched in satisfaction while his mouth gaped.

“You saved me, strange sir. If you hadn’t, I would’ve faded away.”

“That doesn’t work like—” he paused, “how exactly would you fade?”

“Like this.” She demonstrated, her entire body turning transparent. Kotaro watched with wide eyes, able to see the window through her fading form. “As you can tell, I’m not alive anymore.”

“Yeah, do tell,” Kotaro responded, sarcastically. Anger quickly took over. “What about all the food you just ate? Are you telling me that I did this for nothing?”

“Excuse me, but I’m the guest here,” she argued. “Besides, the food was a little too sweet. It needed a little flavor.”

“The guest? More like a freeloader.”

She gasped, “How rude! Do you have something against a ghost like me?”

“With all the food you just ate, yeah.”

The woman planted her hands on her head, ripped it from her shoulders, and handed it to Kotaro. No blood. Just a headless body. An awkward silence seeped into the kitchen. Her head. Like a pile of ice cubes.

“W-What just happened?”

Her arms flailed like a child. “I’m giving you my head as an apology. Take it. Do whatever you want with it!”

“N-No!” Kotaro stammered with furrowed brows.

“Kotaro, what’s with the yelling?” Amanda stood in the kitchen precipice. In a flash, her curiosity turned to horror. She screamed the highest octave before her eyes closed, and she toppled to the floor, landing with a thud.

The headless phantom pointed at her. “Are you going to eat that?”

“No!” Kotaro barked. A heavy sigh escaped his lips. “Just put your head back on.”

Despite her handicap, she proved to be a struggle. “No! Keep it. I ate all of your food.”

“And now you’ve made my mom think I killed you!” Kotaro exclaimed. She at last relented, and with a resigned gesture, her head was reattached. “There! Oh great…”

He realized it was on backwards. She twisted it around, like it was a minor inconvenience.

“Who are you? You’re obviously not from here.”

“I never properly introduced myself—” She sat down as a paper fan formed into her hands. Her soft tone subtly shifted to one more earnest. “I am Okiku Sakurai.”

“What do you want from me?”

“No reason. I just wanted to meet you, Kotaro Nishiki,” she answered, covering her face behind the paper fan.

“You’re lying.”

“You doubt yourself,” Okiku commented.

“What?”

“Will things change? Or will things restart? Those are outcomes that will come, but only if you take a stance.”

Okiku’s words weighed upon him. He remained pessimistic. “How is it supposed to change if it’s just going to be the same?”

“Beats me. Do you wish to remain here and allow the Kamiyama Shrine Maiden to resolve this incident? Or do you wish to take matters into your own hands? And potentially, learn about your past?”

Her words sliced his doubts like a blade. Kotaro found himself at a crossroad. Many questions clamored for answers, but one truth became clear—that other world, Densetsu, held his missing memories.

Lost in thoughts, he was oblivious to his warping surroundings. The roof vanished, unveiling a purple mist cloaking the black sky. Swarms of butterflies danced around Okiku.

“What happened?” Kotaro scanned his surroundings, realizing he was no longer home. “And where are we?”

“The Netherworld. The realm of the dead.”

Phantoms began making themselves known. Some formed in thin air while others rose from the dirt like the dead. Many drew themselves between Kotaro and Okiku, making a lively dance around them.

“Tell me, has that girl told you about the Boundary?”

“The Boundary?” Kotaro recollected his conversation with Noel. He shook his head. Last he recalled, she only explained Densetsu’s existence and its current situation.

“It’s the ability to warp the borders between anything and everything. Such as life and death. Day and night. And even timelines. It is essentially the ability to warp the fabrics of reality.”

“Is that how Noel’s master is able to reset the days?” Kotaro asked.

“Precisely,” she confirmed. Okiku turned around and flew into the violet sky. Kotaro lifted his head to see a massive staircase leading to a towering castle. “Come, we have plenty of time to converse.”

“But I have school tomorrow.”

“The Netherworld doesn’t affect mortal time.”

Kotaro allowed himself to let loose as he followed the floating phantom to her castle. Barely a few minutes, he found himself panting. He felt his life draining with every step.

The ghosts mocking didn’t help. They danced in the air, spun in circles and performed all sorts of circus tricks. Others slinked alongside him, sticking their tongues and making faces.

Annoyed, he didn’t sway his progress. Two more steps. Suddenly, he found himself at the main entrance. A tall, ornate gate awaited him. He scanned his surroundings, puzzled. Kotaro wasn’t even half-way up the staircase. Something is not right.

“That girl…she appears, and then leaves without saying a word,” Okiku pouted, appearing behind Kotaro. Her unannounced presence startled him.

“Who are you referring to?”

“Someone you will meet. Who knows when,” she answered. The phantom crossed her arms, sulking. “But now she wants to come and help? This defeats the purpose of doing things on your own.”

The gates opened, presenting a serene and otherworldly oasis. The seamless integration between nature and human intervention left him in awe. The air carried a gentle perfume, a subtle blend of cherry blossoms and the earthy aroma of moss- covered stones.

Gravel paths meandered through carefully manicured landscapes. Kotaro’s steps were cushioned by the soft crunch of gravel beneath his feet before crossing over a scarlet bridge. Water flowed and ebbed to a nearby pond, which was lined with moss-covered stones weathered by the passage of time.

Prudently placed lanterns cast a warm glow along the winding paths. Their soft light created pockets of tranquility in the spectral mist. The flickering flames danced in harmony with the rustling leaves.

Meticulously pruned trees created a sense of order and balance. The symphony of nature enveloped Kotaro with a profound sense of peace.

“Welcome to Hilltop Castle.” Okiku glided through the air towards the porch before gracefully taking a seat. Ghosts joined the phantom princess, creating a spectral court around her. “Since this realm isn’t confined with mortal time, why don’t we proceed to hone your ability?”

“My ability?”

“You are fighting, yes?”

Kotaro raised a brow. When did I agree to this?

Okiku snapped her finger. The ghosts scattered, but one remained, one more opaque than the others. More distinct with bowl-cut hair. One side was jet-black. The other gleamed stark white.

“My gardener will properly train you,” Okiku said. “Fight to your heart’s content, Gouki.”

I’m getting mixed signals. Does she want to train me, or kill me?

The man rose and unsheathed two swords. The katana rose above his head. The wakizashi extended in an arc. Silence emerged between the two. At the slightest move from Kotaro, Gouki reacted with precision.

Gouki sliced through the air with his katana. Startled, Kotaro sprawled backward. Gouki poised his wakizashi dangerously close to Kotaro’s nose.

“This is so unfair,” Kotaro complained. “How am I supposed to defend—”

Gouki prepared his katana, ready to cut him down.

“Use your reiki,” Okiku advised.

“How, exactly?”

“Gouki,” Okiku called. The gardener sheathed his swords and returned to Okiku. She stood and floated towards Kotaro. “Reiki is life, energy that thrives in all lifeforms and non-lifeforms.”

Okiku tapped Kotaro’s forehead. “Your thoughts control the flow of reiki inside you.”

She slid her finger to his lips. “Your words bring life, and miracles are born.”

“For an example…” Okiku manifested reiki from the tip of her finger. Visible energy, swirling in an electrical manner, became present in the physical sense. She pointed at a ghost. “Attack Skill: Beyond Death is Nothing.”

A beam of pink light shot from the tip of her finger, striking the specter. The unfortunate soul began fading. The surrounding apparitions scattered in fear.

Kotaro heaved to his feet, having absorbed her lesson. His eyes closed. Deep breaths. In and out, through his nostrils.

“Wait…” he began, “what’d you do to that ghost?”

“What else would I do? I erased its existence.”