Smoke coiled in the temple ruins like incense offered to dead gods.
Ishikawa's boots crunched on frost as he stepped over the bodies of fallen Black Guard. Blood soaked the prayer mats, and somewhere nearby, a bell chimed once, broken.
He found her there — Asaki, sprawled against a cracked Buddha statue, her breath shallow, skin pale. Kiyoku lay beside her, blade dulled and chipped.
"...Asaki."
His voice cracked.
She stirred, but barely. A smear of dried blood ran down her cheek. Her right arm was wrapped in torn silk, but the wound beneath bled still — deep, jagged, black at the edges.
Sagari Kunimoto looked up from where he crouched beside her, hands stained crimson.
"We slowed the bleeding," he muttered. "But that sword she fought — it left something inside her."
"What happened?" Ishikawa demanded.
Sagari's mouth tightened. "She fought a monster."
Ishikawa knelt beside Asaki, gripping her shoulder. "Who did this to you?"
Her eyes fluttered open. For a moment, she didn't speak. Then, barely a whisper—
"Jin Nomura…"
The name hit Ishikawa like a falling temple.
Kunata stepped forward, the scholar's gaunt frame hunched over a rolled parchment stained with soot. "Nomura is Kagutsuchi's Vice Captain. Commander of the Crimson Veil, and wielder of the sword Sizaka."
Ishikawa's hand flexed instinctively toward Kurayami.
"Never heard of it."
"You wouldn't have," Kunata said. "Not unless you studied forbidden steel."
He unrolled the parchment and pointed at a sketch — a long, black blade curved like a dragon's fang. The drawing shimmered faintly, as if the ink still pulsed.
"Sizaka isn't a sword," Kunata continued. "It's a parasite."
Ishikawa frowned. "What?"
"Sizaka feeds on blood — not to grow sharp, but aware. Every soul it kills becomes part of it. It remembers. It learns. And it hungers."
Ogi stood nearby, silent, arms folded. "It screams when it strikes."
Sagari added, "And it took Asaki apart in four strokes."
Ishikawa turned back to her.
"Why didn't you run?"
"I had him," Asaki whispered. "For a moment… I had him. But the sword… it moved like it knew me. Like it knew Kiyoku."
Ishikawa's eyes narrowed.
"Soul-forged steel," he muttered.
"Exactly," Kunata said. "Sizaka isn't just a cursed blade. It's ancient. Forged by a blood priest during the Black Era. Only six ever made. Each one named after a demon. Sizaka was lost after the Fire Rebellion."
"And now," Sagari said grimly, "it's in the hands of a man who serves Kagutsuchi."
Ishikawa stood, heart heavy.
"Where is Jin Nomura now?"
"Inside the Aizu citadel," Sagari said. "Guarding the Fire Throne. You won't reach him through walls. You'll need to go through corpses."
"Then we start now."
"No," Sagari said, standing to meet his eyes. "You don't understand. Sizaka doesn't fight alone. It infects the battlefield. The longer the fight lasts, the more it spreads — into your mind. Your muscle. You lose time. Memory. You think you're blocking — but your blade's already on the ground."
"Then I'll fight it fast."
"Fast doesn't matter," Ogi said. "If your soul wavers once, it eats you."
Ishikawa glared at them all. "I've faced worse."
Asaki coughed, then spoke weakly: "Not like this, Ishikawa. Not like him."
He turned back to her, kneeling again.
"What did he say to you?"
Asaki's eyes trembled.
"He said… I was too late. That my anger was shaped wrong. That I didn't carry my blade for vengeance — but for guilt. And guilt is too dull to kill him."
Ishikawa's jaw clenched.
Sagari leaned forward. "You want to kill Jin Nomura?"
"I want to end him."
"Then you need to know the truth," Kunata said. "He wasn't always Kagutsuchi's dog. He used to be the White Sword of Edo — a hero. But something broke. No one knows what. He vanished for ten years. When he returned, he had Sizaka in his hand and death in his wake."
Ogi added, "He killed his own brother. Said it was a mercy."
Ishikawa stood, fire rising in his gut. "Then he's already dead."
Sagari blocked his path.
"No. Not yet."
Ishikawa's grip tightened around Kurasa. "Move."
"You'll die. And your death won't buy Asaki's life."
"She doesn't need me to die for her."
"Then live for her. And listen."
Sagari lowered his voice. "We're planning to breach the citadel tomorrow night. Fire at the western wall. Distraction teams from the sewer grates. But Jin… he doesn't sleep. He doesn't rest. Sizaka keeps him moving. Watching. Hunting."
Ishikawa finally stepped back, breath hissing through his teeth.
"What do you want from me?"
Sagari's eyes sharpened.
"We want you to kill him. But not alone."
---
That night, Ishikawa sat beside Asaki as she slept.
Her breathing was steadier. The herbs Sagari packed into her wounds were rare — from the northern peaks. Painful, but pure. She looked younger in sleep. Or maybe just more human. Not the broken weapon she tried to be.
He thought back to the fields of Kalari.
To her laughter — fierce and clumsy.
To her scream, when she lost her father.
To her oath, taken under a moonless sky.
"We don't run. We strike back."
He clenched his fists.
He hadn't come to Aizu for her.
But here he was.
---
At dawn, they brought him to the cliff behind the city. From there, he could see the full sprawl of Aizu — the black towers, the glowing banners, the Fire Throne crowned in obsidian and smoke. And at the center — a single man standing atop the palace steps.
Even from this far, Ishikawa could feel it.
That sword.
It pulsed like a second heartbeat — too slow, too loud, too hungry.
"That's him," Sagari said.
Jin Nomura stood still as a statue, arms folded, cloak whipping in the wind.
Kunata muttered, "They say Sizaka speaks when it kills. Not with words. With memories. The last thoughts of the men it devours."
Ishikawa didn't blink.
"I'm not afraid of my past."
"Good," Sagari said. "Because that sword is."
---
To be continued…