Senshi

“I need heal. Heal!” Kotaro’s urgent plea reverberated through the headset. His eyes were glued to the screen, his fingers flying across the keys in rapid-fire dance. Each click was more intense than the last, faster—like a symphony reaching its climax. His heartbeat pounded in sync with the battle, his breath shallow. He couldn’t afford to slip up. Not now. “Rocky, where is my healing?”

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

The moment the green glow of healing washed over Kotaro’s character, a monstrous roar erupted from the speakers. Draclovania the Twin Star thrashed wildly, sending waves of fire across the battlefield. Her scales shimmered, reflecting the carnage of her own destruction. Despite their formidable gear, the Queen of Dragons proved to be difficult with her enormous health bar, 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.

Kotaro’s fingers ached from spamming abilities, but he ignored it. Almost there. Almost there.

“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. Their screens turned gray, their avatars could no longer fight, and the worst of all, a large caption of words reading “You Died!” hovered the screen. 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 eight times without winning once,” 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 stared at the blank screen, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as if contemplating logging back in alone. Giving up, Kotaro slumped and sighed. As he pondered, reality pressed on him. The world within his computer was far easier to navigate. Predictable. Safe.

Responsibility. The unknown. Kotaro exhaled, rubbing his temples. The conversation with Noel after school. He shook his head. No matter how much he tried to push it aside, the words still clung to him, nagging at the back of his mind.

At last he eased to his feet and trudged to the hallway. He slipped into his jacket and shoes, the motions mechanical, as if his body moved on its own while his thoughts lagged behind.

“Kotaro, where are you going? It’s late.” Amanda’s voice cut through the quiet. Concern laced her tone, though Kotaro couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes.

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

She paused—then a soft sigh. “Don’t stay out too long,”

The door clicked shut behind him. He wandered through the neighborhood, hoping the solitude would offer clarity. The cold air stung his skin, but he barely noticed. The footsteps crunched against the snow-covered sidewalk as he ventured further, lost in his thoughts. The deserted streets certainly helped clear his mind.

Noel’s words still lingered, tangled in his thoughts. He lifted a hand absentmindedly, and a snowflake settled against his palm—fragile, fleeting. The cold night was still young, a canvas of uncertainties.

“If the days keep repeating themselves, I wonder if any of this matters…” Kotaro muttered under his breath. He exhaled, watching his breath spiral into the night. A biting chill seeped through his shoes.

Was this all there was? School, gaming, walking, sleeping—then doing it all over again?

He shook his head, stuffing his hand into his pockets. Maybe fresh air wasn’t helping after all. Maybe he should just—

Something clamped onto his ankle.

A wave of ice shot up his leg, then coursed through his entire body. His breath caught in his throat as he jerked his foot, but the grip held firm. Kotaro’s pulse pounded as he glanced down.

A pale, slender hand emerged from the snow.

His stomach lurched. The hand belonged to a woman in a pink, floral-patterned kimono. The long, tattered sleeves draped against the frozen ground, soaked with melted snow. Her head was bowed, messy strands of pink hair clinging to her face.

A startled yelp escaped him. He tried to yank his foot away—once, twice—nothing. The grip was like iron.

“H-Hey! Let go!” he stammered, shaking his leg.

The woman stirred. Slowly, she lifted her head, revealing emerald eyes that locked onto his.

“Strange sir,” she murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Please don’t leave me…”

Her fingers twitched, tightening the hold. “I am but a poor lady. Can’t you see that I am struggling to get back up on my two feet?”

Kotaro’s heartbeat slammed against his ribs. With a grip like that, he doubted she was struggling with anything. Still, she did look pitiful.

He swallowed. “Alright, I’ll help you!”

The change was instant.

“Really?” she sprang to her feet with unnatural speed, wrapping her arms around him in a sudden, freezing embrace. “Thank you so much!”

S-So cold! Kotaro stammered, peeling himself away from her grasp. How was she this cold but not shivering? He rubbed his arms and forced himself to stay calm. “Come on… you need to warm up.”

He led her home, his mind racing. What is going on?

Explaining the situation to his parents wasn’t easy. The moment Okiku stepped through the doorway, his mother’s brow furrowed, and his father’s lips parted slightly in disbelief. Their eyes immediately scanned the woman’s kimono—a sight completely out of place in the dead of winter, in America no less.

“Kotaro,” his mother said carefully, her gaze shifting between him and their strange guest. “Who is this…and why is she dressed like that?”

Kotaro scratched the back of his head. “Uh. Long story. I found her in the snow.”

His father folded his arms, clearly waiting for more. “And she’s staying here, why?”

Before Kotaro could formulate a better response, Okiku clasped her hands together and announced, “I’m hungry.”

His parents exchanged another look—one that screamed a mixture of confusion, concern, and sheer bafflement. Finally, his mother sighed, shaking her head. “Alright. We’ll get you something to eat… but we’re talking about this later.”

Kotaro exhaled, relieved.

Moments later, he watched his pantry be emptied. His parents were in their bedroom. She stretched in satisfaction while Kotaro’s jaw hung open.

“You saved me, strange sir,” she said, giving him a soft smile. “If you hadn’t, I would’ve faded away.”

“That’s not how that—wait, what do you mean by ‘fade’?”

“Like this.” She demonstrated.

At first, it was subtle—her skin paling as if light passed through her—but within seconds, Kotaro could see the outlines of her veins dissolving into nothing. Her pale flesh turned to frosted glass, her kimono shifting into a mere haze of color. By the time she fully faded, only the faintest shimmer remained, allowing him to see straight through her to the window behind.

Kotaro’s breath caught in his throat. His fingers twitched, instinctively reaching out—but his hand phased right through where her arm should have been. A chill crept down his spine as he stumbled back.

“As you can tell,” she said with innocence in her voice, “I’m not alive anymore.”

A heavy silence hung between them.

Kotaro blinked. Then, his shock boiled into something else—frustration. “Yeah, do tell,” he shot back, sarcasm lacing his words. “What about all the food you just ate? Are you telling me that I did all that for nothing?”

“Ahem! I’ll have you know, I’m your guest,” she countered, lifting her chin. “Besides, the food was a little too bland. It needed a little flavor.”

“The guest? More like a freeloader.”

She gasped, hand to her chest. “How rude! Do you have something against ghosts?”

“Yes.”

The response was quick. Zero delay. Kotaro didn’t blink. His face was devoid of emotion. He motioned toward the kitchen, where empty plates and bowls sat undeniable evidence of his mistake. Then, with a glance back at her, his voice flat with defeat, he repeated, “With all the food you just ate? Yes.”

The woman tilted her head, tapping her chin in thought. Then, as if coming to the most logical conclusion, she placed both hands on her head—

And ripped it clean off.

No blood. No mess. Just a headless body standing there like this was the most natural thing in the world.

Kotaro froze. An awkward silence seeped into the kitchen. Then, before he could even process it, she shoved the disembodied head into his hands. It was cold—like a pile of ice cubes.

“W-What just happened?”

Her arms flailed like a child. From the head in his hands, her voice winced, “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. Her scream hit a glass-shattering octave before her eyes rolled back, and she crumpled to the floor in a dead faint.

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.”

Even headless, she managed to be difficult. “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, reattached her head. “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 materialized into existence in her hand, as if conjured from thin air. Her tone softened at first, then took on an earnest edge. “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. The phantom squinted her alluring gaze.

“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 cut through his doubts like a blade. Kotaro stood at a crossroads, torn between uncertainty and resolve. One thing became clear—Densetsu held the answer to his past.

Lost in thoughts, Kotaro failed to notice the world shifting around him. The air shifted drastically, reality bending at the edge like a mirage. The roof of his home faded away, dissolving into a sea of violet mist bled into the black sky. A chill brushed his skin as luminous butterflies flickered into existences, their delicate wings casting an ethereal glow 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.”

The violet mist swirled around them, thick and restless, shifting with sentience. Beyond it, cherry blossom and wisteria trees stood in solemn silence, their petals drifting weightlessly through the air. It glowed faintly against the darkened sky.

Phantoms began making themselves known. Some formed in thin air while others rose from cracked earth like corpses crawling free from their graves. They drifted without sound, their hollow eyes reflecting the dim glow of ghostly lanterns floating above the ground. Many wove themselves between Kotaro and Okiku, moving in an eerie, rhythmic waltz.

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

“The Boundary?” Kotaro tilted his head, his brows raised.

“It’s the ability to warp the borders between anything and everything. Such as life and death. Day and night. And even the flow of time itself. It is essentially the ability to reshape the fabric of reality.”

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

“Precisely,” she confirmed. Okiku turned and ascended into the violet sky, her figure blending into the mist. Kotaro followed her gaze, spotting a massive staircase. Its steps were carved from obsidian and lined with lanterns that burned with a pale, ghostly flame. At the top, a towering castle loomed. “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—”

A sharp blur—Gouki moved. Before Kotaro could react, the katana was already slicing through the air. Startled, he staggered back, his breath caught in his throat.

“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.”