The doors of the ruined barracks groaned as they swung open to the windless night.
Ishikawa stepped through the threshold, eyes burning with purpose, a half-healed wound still throbbing beneath his torn haori. His breath misted in the chilled air of Tsu's outer fortress.
Beside him, Sagari of the Higanbana Clan waited no longer. "You sure about this?" he asked, arms folded. "He's not like the others."
"I don't care what he is," Ishikawa muttered, "as long as he bleeds."
Sagari exhaled through his nose. "Then go. But if you die… remember, some ghosts don't rest easy."
Inside the courtyard, flames flickered from oil torches that lined the path to a small open dojo. Crows circled above, silent witnesses to what would follow.
Ishikawa approached alone.
There, seated calmly on the polished floor of the dojo, was a man in black-red robes, a dull silver hair tie glinting under the flame's light.
He looked… ordinary. Weathered, but not monstrous. Stern, but not cruel. A veteran — not a demon.
Until you saw the sword beside him.
Sizaka.
A katana forged of scorched black steel, its blade humming in stillness. Its hilt wrapped in obsidian silk. Its saya bound with old seals in red ink — most of them broken.
The sword radiated hatred like heat from a forge.
"Ishikawa…" the man spoke without looking up.
"You're Jin Nomura," Ishikawa replied coldly.
"I am," Jin said. "Vice-Captain of Aizu Black Guard. Slayer of the Shinden Rebellion. Former heir of the Nishikawa Clan."
He rose slowly.
"I was told you slew Nakajima Takayasu."
Ishikawa's fingers brushed both blades at his side — Kurayami, the dusk blade, and Kurasa, the reaper fang. Twin siblings of steel.
"He fell. I stood."
"A mistake," Jin said, eyes glinting. "He was meant to break you. Not die to you."
He placed a hand on Sizaka's hilt.
"Allow me to correct that mistake."
---
Ishikawa lunged first.
"Shikkiri: Tora no Kiba (Tiger Fang Form)!"
In an instant, his twin blades moved in perfect harmony — Kurayami swept low, Kurasa struck high. The twin-fang assault had slain dozens of Kajin-ryu. Its timing was flawless. Its form deadly.
But Sizaka… moved like a serpent of flame.
Clang—
Jin parried both blades in one fluid motion, rotating Sizaka with no resistance. Sparks flew. Ishikawa stepped back in shock — his wrists numbed.
Sizaka pulsed.
The black blade shifted color — blood-red veins surfacing along its edge.
"Ishikawa…" Jin's voice rang out. "Do you know why this blade is feared?"
He dashed forward.
And the world blurred.
---
"Sizaka no Jutsu: Yami no Gensō (Phantom of the Dark)"
From the corner of his vision, Ishikawa saw himself.
A younger version.
Face covered in blood. Knees bent. Eyes hollow.
It was the moment after his first kill.
"Wha—?" he gasped, backing away.
The phantom attacked.
Ishikawa instinctively blocked — but Jin struck from another direction. Sizaka slashed across his side.
Blood spurted.
He staggered, gasping, pain radiating through his ribs.
"The blade awakens memory," Jin said. "Not yours. Its own. And forces you to fight what you've buried."
Ishikawa roared, pushing past the illusion.
"Shikkiri: Gekkō Rendan (Moonlight Barrage)!"
In a flurry, Ishikawa launched twelve strikes in one breath — blades flowing like silver waves. Jin dodged seven, parried four.
The twelfth connected.
A gash on Jin's cheek.
Blood.
But Jin smiled.
"Good. Now bleed."
---
"Sizaka no Jutsu: Kurokiba (Black Fang)"
The air cracked.
Jin twisted, slashing once.
The blade didn't touch Ishikawa's skin — but something deeper.
A black line opened across his chest.
Ishikawa coughed blood, eyes wide.
It didn't cut flesh… it cut soul.
He collapsed to one knee.
His left arm — numb.
Kurasa slipped from his grip.
Jin's next strike shattered Kurayami.
The dusk blade screamed as it broke into three jagged shards.
"Do you understand now?" Jin asked, standing over him. "Sizaka is not a sword. It's a curse. A remnant of every death I've delivered. It remembers all pain. And shares it."
Ishikawa tried to stand.
Failed.
Tried again.
His muscles trembled. His knees shook. But he rose.
"I don't care… what that thing is," he spat blood.
"Because I'll still kill you."
He raised Kurasa with his one working hand.
Jin hesitated.
Then, for the first time, frowned.
"You remind me of someone I once knew."
He sheathed Sizaka.
And turned.
"I won't kill you today."
Ishikawa blinked. "What?"
"I want to see what your hatred becomes. Come back. Stronger. Smarter. Angrier."
He paused, eyes distant.
"And then I'll destroy you."
Jin walked into the dark.
And vanished.
---
When Ishikawa woke, he was lying on a futon inside the Higanbana base.
Asaki sat beside him, tears falling freely.
"I thought you died," she whispered.
"I did," Ishikawa rasped. "But my hatred kept breathing."
Sagari leaned against the wall. "You fought Sizaka. And survived. That's more than most."
Ishikawa turned to him.
"Tell me everything about that sword."
Sagari nodded slowly.
"Sizaka was forged during the Ashen Wars. Not with steel… but with remnants of cursed blades melted together by the sorcerer-bladesmith Yama no Rokuin. Each time it kills, it remembers. And each time it remembers, it strikes deeper."
"It eats the soul," Asaki added softly. "Piece by piece."
Ishikawa clenched his fist.
"I need to fight again."
"You're not ready," Asaki said, alarmed.
"I will be," he said, eyes blazing. "I'll forge my own answer to Sizaka."
He reached for Kurasa.
The last blade.
The only one left.
And murmured:
"Shikkiri wa shinda. Ore wa, aratana katachi o tsukuru. (Shikkiri is dead. I will forge a new form.)"
---
To be continued.