Aso this night seemingly possessed the strange power to warp every mind. Prayer and murderous malice both flowed lava-hot, slowly covering the midwinter land. The snow was gone.
Kaizaki Makoto ran through the midnight forest. The water serpent was still alive. It was guiding him to Takaya. It undulated its spring-water body vigorously through the air. Kaizaki followed. Though his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he could not see very far ahead. He tripped countless times over the roots underfoot.
(He doesn’t believe it.)
But he had no confidence in that statement.
Their proper time together had stopped the instant the bullet had pierced Naoe’s chest that day two years ago. Thereafter, due to the reactions of a ‘counterfeit’, Kagetora had come to believe Naoe was distancing himself—that his obsession with him was over. Takaya had had no evidence to refute this.
For all these two years, Naoe had not told Kagetora of his own circumstances. They had exchanged a few words that night in Chigasaki and at Kumamoto Castle’s Unopened Gate, but he didn’t think that was enough to counter this slander. They were too ambiguous and weak. And in any case, whatever he said, those words would have come from Kaizaki Makoto, a stranger. He’d known that they would be taken as the cryptic remarks of a mysterious entity putting on the deceptive guise of a prophet.
It had been necessary for him to become Kaizaki in order to fulfill his mission. It would’ve been simple if they could toss away the responsibilities imposed on them, but they couldn’t. This was how both he and Kagetora had lived for four hundred years. But he didn’t want to use that as an excuse: he’d always worked to proactively turn any circumstance to his advantage.
Still, Naoe believed he’d made a mistake. The anti-Oda alliance was serious about winning Kagetora over. Though they had failed at Hagi, they were not about to abandon the project. Oda had grown stronger in recent days, while Takeda had apparently read Uesugi’s own moves. The anti-Oda generals must be feeling a sense of crisis. Forewarned, they were moving to close the deal. He’d had a bad feeling ever since he’d seen Chiaki and Takaya at Old Castle High School, but by then it had already been too late.
(We should have gotten them to leave Kumamoto, even if force had been necessary.)
Sold out by Naoe—
It was not unreasonable for Takaya to believe that. Two years ago in his exhaustion he had treated Takaya cruelly with wild words and actions . Having lost his «power» and his sight, he had seen only the end. Takaya had heard him plead for that end.
As Kaizaki Makoto, his words could not reach Takaya. No matter what he said, Takaya would not accept it as coming from Naoe; to the contrary, it would only serve to perplex him or at best be taken as a momentary consolation.
(Nothing but a meaningless scrabble between counterfeits.)
He and Kagetora weren’t even standing on the same earth. If he could speak with Takaya not as Kaizaki Makoto but as himself—as the genuine Naoe Nobutsuna, Takaya would awaken from this ‘nightmare’ he had created and return to reality. Their frozen time would resume its motion when they could speak to each other face-to-face. But right now he could do nothing. Their time had halted—a halt that held an evil power, for it was swiftly burying everything in the mud of falsehood, and out of the chaos an end was coming that would suffocate them to death. Whether or not they could escape probably depended on their resolve.
Which was now being tested by these circumstances.
He had to find his way to Takaya. He didn’t trust Kousaka’s claim about him allying with Takeda, and he couldn’t hand him over to the enemy in any case. Kousaka had had a point when he’d said Naoe was going to see to it Takaya wasn’t used. But his heart held an even more important reason, one that only he and Irobe knew.
(Kagetora-sama...!)
Naoe ventured deep into the mountain. It was late, and the temperature had fallen rapidly. He was worried about Takaya’s physical well-being.
To Takaya, Fuuma Kotarou was ‘Naoe’ right now. If Kotarou was one of the anti-Oda alliance, then he was collaborating with Kousaka. He was probably going to abandon his current vessel. When he found Takaya, how he was supposed to explain his appearance? He couldn’t think of a way. Even when Kousaka’s lies came to light, Takaya would eventually learn of Naoe’s position as the general of the New Uesugi. What would he do then?
Naoe had been putting off thinking about the future. Securing his person was the first priority.
(Takaya-san.)
He was breathing harder as he walked. His black hair was disheveled, and his coat mud-stained. He continued down the slope, thrusting his way through the trees.
(Please be all right.)
At that moment.
The water serpent suddenly leapt about as if it had sensed something unusual.
Naoe had also noticed it: the scent of blood. Something was coming out of the darkness.
He could see a human shadow approaching from the depths of the beech forest. Naoe readied himself. The other figure looked a little odd, as if he were hurt. He approached slowly step by step, panting and sometimes staggering. He was covered with blood. It felt as if a wounded wild animal were approaching, ready to kill anyone in its path. Naoe gathered his «power». Yet, when he saw the man’s face, Naoe caught his breath in astonishment.
“You...”
Fuuma Kotarou dragged his bloody body into view.
He was in a pitiful state. The empty cuff of his right hand was absolutely soaked with blood. Judging by the tourniquet at his elbow, it appeared to have been cut off. His black hair was wild, and he was pale as a ghost due to the loss of blood. Yet his eyes glittered an eerie red. He hadn’t lost consciousness even with such grievous wounds. What incredible tenacity. He had left not a single one of the Shimazu soldiers standing, and then had made his way here.
Naoe lost his voice for a moment. He had never before seen such an awe-inspiring Kotarou.
At that moment, Kotarou’s eyes abruptly opened wide as he registered Kaizaki’s presence.
(An enemy...!)
Kotarou poised himself. In front of him was Naoe in Kaizaki’s shape. Naoe was astounded.
“Why are you—...”
Kotarou’s mind was slow to react. He didn’t seem to recognize Kaizaki; his left hand tightened reflexively around Ranzanmaru as he forced out his question, voice leaving no doubt he was ready to kill again: “Another servant of Shimazu...?!” Hair sticky with blood trailed into his eyes, but his ferocious glare was full of beastly savagery. “Get out of my way! Otherwise I’ll kill you too!”
Naoe’s eyes widened. “Did you say ‘Shimazu’ just now?”
Kotarou’s brows twitched at the question. His vision seemed to suddenly clear. He recognized the man standing in front of him. He recognized this face.
“You’re...”
Kotarou remembered. They had never met in person, but Kotarou had seen his picture. This was Kaizaki Makoto: a descendant of Satomi, Yoshitaka’s right arm, and someone who had lent his power to the ‘Rite of Passage to Hell’. He’d heard from Takaya that Kaizaki was working with Ootomo in Kumamoto. He was a man whose actions were indecipherable. He’d let Takaya go at Chigasaki. His handwriting was similar to Naoe’s. And he clearly had a peculiar impact on Takaya.
“Are you fighting Shimazu?” Kaizaki asked. “Did they give you that wound? What are you doing here? Stand in your way...where are you going?”
Kotarou glared silently with renewed wariness.
Is it possible? Naoe wondered. “When you say Shimazu, do you mean the soldiers stationed at Takamori Castle? They’re part of the anti-Oda alliance, are they not? Which means they’re your allies, Kotarou. Why are you fighting them?”
(What...?)
Kotarou had an odd reaction to Naoe’s elocution. He felt a strange sensation in his ears.
This was, of course, the first time he’d heard Kaizaki speak. But he immediately recognized the reason for the oddness. His manner of speaking was similar to that which Kotarou aspired. No—it was so startlingly close to what Kotarou imagined that he doubted his ears. Further, it wasn’t just the manner of speaking, but the unique tilt of his eyebrows and expression during the cross-examination.
“Where have you taken Takaya-san?”
“...!”
“You bastard, you’re conspiring with Kousaka to deceive him, aren’t you? How dare you exploit his auto-suggestion like this, you contemptible cowards. Your methods won’t get him to return to the Houjou!”
No way, Kotarou thought. It just wasn’t possible—he shook his head. Kaizaki ascribed another reason to the motion.
“You can’t not know. You must’ve been told that Takeda is deceiving him. Where is Kagetora-sama? No, you can’t have seen him looking like that. Who kidnapped him?”
(It has...to be...) Kotarou was astonished. (This is Naoe.)
The dead Naoe Nobutsuna. His mannerisms, speech, expression... Kotarou knew. He was a ninja among ninjas. A ninja whose name was written in the annals of history. He knew the smallest details of Naoe’s quirks, and his talent for mimicry was unparalleled. His eyes probed straight to the heart of things.
He was perfect. That which he had aspired to for two years, into which Kotarou had poured all his commitment and mental focus, was standing right in front of him. Voice recognition: match. There was no mistake. He could think of no other possibility...!
“Naoe...Nobutsuna...!” The man’s eyes widened at the name. “You’re alive? You weren’t purified...?!”
He knows? Naoe thought. Though Kousaka might be capable of discerning between the cores of souls, Kotarou shouldn’t have been able to see through him. Of course Kotarou didn’t have the ability to perceive the spiritual waveform synchronization. He wasn’t relying on his sixth sense, but his five senses. The thoroughly tempered eyes and ears of the best ninja in the world had perceived the truth about Naoe.
(The eyes of a ninja, huh?)
Naoe felt a chill down his spine. The ninjas were a fearsome lot. One of their terrible number was standing in front of him; he regarded Kotarou with fear. But Kotarou looked strange. After speaking Naoe’s name, he’d only stood there pale and stiff, as if he’d received a terrible blow.
“Why...are you alive—...” His voice shook. “You were supposed to have been purified! You’re not supposed to be in this world. Why! Why now...?!” Unable to endure a surge of emotion, Kotarou screamed, face twisting, “Why the hell are you here—?!”
(What was that shout just now...?!)
Someone had heard the cry coming from the deep forest: Kikkawa Motoharu, who had chased Takaya into the mountains from the ruins of the cabins destroyed by volcanic gases.
(Someone’s ahead of me...!)
Motoharu ran. He had not spotted either Takaya or Kiyomasa. The Himuka bird-people he had sent after Kiyomasa were now engaged in mortal combat, but he didn’t know for certain what had happened to them. Motoharu believed Takaya had taken the opportunity to slip away, and was now chasing him alone.
Takaya had gone into hiding. Motoharu had been searching this way and that for more than an hour, but Aso’s forest was immense, and he’d found no clue.
That was when he heard Kotarou’s voice.
Feeling ill-at-ease, Motoharu pulled out the pistol he carried at his hip as a precaution and headed toward the voice. Scrabbling up a slope slippery with frost, pushing his way through bush and scrub, he emerged into a small clearing. There Motoharu saw the two men facing each other.
(That’s...!)
Fuuma Kotarou? It definitely was. Motoharu remembered him. Though he no longer wore his hair long, it was Kotarou. He didn’t recognize the other man.
Why was he here? Motoharu wondered. And with such dreadful injuries. Wasn’t he working with Rairen of the Ikkou Sect? And who was the other man?
(That’s right...! Kagetora-dono is currently convinced that Kotarou is Naoe.)
Kousaka had informed Rairen about his scheme. Kotarou was not supposed to be here.
He was ashen, and his jaw trembled minutely as he glared at the other man—Kaizaki. Kaizaki—Naoe didn’t deny Kotarou’s words. He kept silent.
“Why are you in that form?” Kotarou demanded in a stifled voice. “You’re Kaizaki Makoto...? What are your intentions? Why didn’t you show yourself immediately? And why are you masquerading as someone else, Naoe Nobutsuna!”
(Naoe...!) Motoharu heard the name loud and clear. (He said Naoe Nobutsuna just now!)
“How long have you used that guise? None of the Yasha-shuu know you’re alive. What the hell are you doing?!”
Naoe was silent. Maybe, Kotarou thought. His penetrating mind grasped the significance of Naoe pretending to be Kaizaki Makoto immediately. Naoe gazed painfully at Kotarou.
From the shadows of his tree, Motoharu swallowed at the exchange. (Could that really be...) He stared wide-eyed at the profile of the man in the black coat. (Is that Naoe? He wasn’t purified...?!)
Naoe was alive?!
“Answer me, Naoe Nobutsuna!” Kotarou cried hoarsely. Though Naoe tried to cloak himself in calmness, a vein throbbed at his temple. He was perfectly exposed. He concluded that he could not deceive this man, and resolved himself.
“I’ll answer if you will. Are you going to Kagetora-sama? What are your intentions?”
“I’m going to save him.”
“Save him?”
Motoharu couldn’t believe his ears either. His startled stare shifted to Kotarou, who looked tormented.
“I’ve made my decision. I’m his right arm. Since he has been captured by the enemy, of course I must go to save him.”
(Kotarou...!)
Motoharu was stunned. Didn’t this mean a betrayal on Kotarou’s part? What was going on? Wasn’t Kotarou one of them...?!
Naoe, too, was at a loss for words. His thoughts ran along the same lines as Motoharu; he was perfectly taken aback.
“I would never sell Kagetora-sama out. Therefore I can’t simply allow events to unfold. I am ‘Naoe’. He’s waiting for me. Of course I must go to save him. As if I could ever betray him to an enemy!”
(What is wrong with him?) Naoe wondered suspiciously. There was a look in Kotarou’s eyes he had never seen before.
Gazing with some sort of deep emotion at Naoe’s face, Kotarou said, “Yes. That expression precisely...”
It was what he had been searching for. Why did it match the one in his imagination so precisely? Because he was the person himself, of course—but the finality of that fact oppressed Kotarou. Perhaps it was an expression of the superiority of Kotarou’s abilities that he felt a strange envy towards Naoe for his natural, effortless performance of a role Kotarou had tormented himself over. Of course, Kotarou thought, narrowing his eyes in pain.
(This is...how you gain victory over me.)
Kotarou had absorbed the inferiority complex formerly harbored by Naoe. His expression, on the other hand, was calm.
“I know, because I’ve been thinking of you constantly for the past two years. You’re going to him too. That’s why you’re here, deep in the mountains. But I can’t let you, Naoe, now that I’ve seen you.” Kotarou unexpectedly smiled. “Because he’s waiting for me. I’m the only one, as Naoe, who can give him peace. Your going is useless. I have to go, or he’ll die.”
Seeing Naoe’s expression harden, Kotarou felt a faint sense of superiority. Though he despised himself for it, he continued: “Don’t you see, Naoe? You no longer exist. You’ve already served your purpose. I’ve been at Kagetora-sama’s side for the past two years, and he is satisfied with me. He’s not as hungry for you as you think he is.”
“Wh...!”
“I’m Naoe, so everything’s fine. If anything, it’s better that you’re not Naoe. I know how to give him peace. My Naoe won’t defect from him...!”
(This man...!)
Naoe’s expression froze. Did he know about Kenshin?
“If I’m you, I won’t leave Kagetora-sama. I won’t leave him because he doesn’t want me to. If I’m asked to choose between Kenshin and Kagetora-sama, I choose Kagetora-sama. That is ‘Naoe’.”
Naoe was left speechless. Kotarou pressed mercilessly, "Even if you, the original, chooses Kenshin, it doesn’t mean I’m not ‘Naoe’—it means you’re no longer ‘Naoe’!
“!”
“There is no need for two ‘Naoes’,” Kotarou told him in a low voice, and adjusted his grip on his spirit-blade once more. “The counterfeit should disappear.”
“!”
Kotarou moved swiftly—even as he was speaking. From where had he dredged up this power? Kotarou pounced at him, Ranzanmaru in a backhanded grip. He swung at Naoe ferociously.
“Haaaah!”
Metallic sparks flashed. Naoe had caught Kotarou on the downswing with a «shield wall». It repelled Kotarou and sent him tumbling back. Naoe too was sent flying back. His back crashed into a tree.
“This time you should die properly, Naoe!” Kotarou yelled as he stood. “I’m going to kill you!”
He attacked with obvious killing intent. Naoe tsked. He couldn’t die here. The battle of the ‘two Naoes’ began as Motoharu watched.
“Wraaal!”
Kotarou charged with a wolf-like howl. Naoe hardened his will and released it in a single burst. The collision sent fiery plasma crackling through the air and left deep claw marks in the trees surrounding them. Naoe concentrated energy in his right arm and used it as a shield. Kotarou’s assault was fierce. The spirit-blade, having grown more powerful on Shimazu blood, now rushed at Naoe. It shattered the shield and slashed through to his skin, ripping his clothes like a razor whirlwind.
“Ugh!” As blood spurted, Naoe quickly gave ground. (He’s strong...!)
“You are no longer Naoe!” Baring a savage murderous intent, a demon-like Kotarou shouted hoarsely. “You should just disappear for good!”
The spirit-blade hummed and elongated into a long sword. It came at Naoe with terrifying force. Its might blasted his shield to particles...!
(You’re wrong!)
Naoe fought with clenched teeth. Kagetora didn’t want a ‘convenient Naoe’. Even if he felt like he did, he who had accepted and carried this scream awaited only ‘Naoe’s reality’. Even now. So Naoe believed. Cry out, his eyes demanded. And that cry existed in Naoe’s heart alone. In his and no other...!
(I must not allow myself to waver!)
Naoe roared like surging waves, “You’re the one who should disappear, you fake—!”
Light flashed from his palm, and a sword appeared: Kaizaki’s spirit-sword ‘Murasame’. It emitted a light very like the Sword of Bishamonten. Naoe swung hard and brought it down on Kotarou!
“Graah—!”
For a moment, an intense beam of light lit the forest in noonday brightness. Murasame and Ranzanmaru clashed squarely. Where they met, a fierce wind swelled. But neither Kotarou nor Naoe pulled back. They jostled with jaws clenched, sword guard against sword guard, eyes glaring into each other’s at close quarters. Plasma crackled ceaselessly with so much power that trees screamed and even the water snake was blown away.
Motoharu shielded himself and strained desperately to see the combatants through the light. Savage power howled and flashed.
“Disappear! I won’t let you go to Saburou-dono! You’re dead, Naoe!” Kotarou screamed as if his soul were bursting apart. “You can never come back—!”
“!”
Naoe felt as if something had exploded in his chest. An intense pain followed, piercing through his body. Kotarou’s savage spirit had crushed Kaizaki’s ribs...!
“Aa...aah!”
Seizing his opportunity, Kotarou was about to press his ferocious attack when Naoe hit him with his will. It split Kotarou’s forehead, and blood spurted. Naoe instantly thrust him aside and rolled, both his hands on the ground.
“Guh...ah...!”
Globs of blood fell from his mouth. That was when he realized that something was wrong.
(The synchronization—)
His synchronization had been disrupted. His hold on his «power» had weakened. Was he about to falter at a time like this? No, someone was interfering. Who? His limbs quivered. He couldn’t even move the body anymore...!
(Kousaka?!)
“Dieeeee!”
He tried to turn to the cry that heralded death, but couldn’t move. Only his eyes swiveled. The sword run through him, howling.
He couldn’t even moan.
The sword pierced his flank. There was a sound as of his entrails slipping out, and the sword slowly pulled out. Blood poured endlessly to the ground.
“...Glub...”
The sound bubbled out of the back of his throat as Kaizaki Makoto crumbled face-down to the ground. He didn’t rise again. Kotarou’s chest heaved with his panting, eyes wide as he stared at the man on the ground.
He was dumbfounded.
Had he done it...?
“...”
Motoharu had seen the entirety of this heroic fight to the death, and now his gaze moved slowly from the man lying in the ocean of blood to Kotarou, the victor. His loose and tangled black hair hung over his face, and dry blood clung and darkened his exquisitely chiseled face. Kotarou stared with hollow eyes at the dead man.
He had killed Naoe Nobutsuna.
He suddenly began to shake violently from his own loss of blood, his eyes revolving. Yet he still managed to keep to his feet. He looked into the deep forest, his consciousness dimming. His left hand tightened around his sword.
Motoharu gazed motionlessly at him from the shadow of his tree.
I have to go...Kotarou thought. He slowly turned on his heels and set off as if summoned by someone unseen.
(Kagetora-sama...)
Call my name. The only name that can testify to your acceptance of my existence.
Kotarou didn’t believe in the gods, yet to his mind Kagetora was boundlessly near to the divine.
Kotarou walked toward Kagetora...
A soft wind lingered in the silent forest.
Motoharu quietly steeled himself and abruptly raised the pistol in his hand.
He pointed the muzzle at a distant target.
He pulled the trigger.
The bullet shattered Kotarou’s skull.
Blood spouting from his head, he toppled forward.
(There is no need for a counterfeit...)
Gunpowder smoke dissolved into the dark of night and slowly vanished.
Pure white snow soundlessly enshrouded the earth.
Beyond the whiteness, warriors slowly approached. Perhaps they had wandered for so long that they had forgotten their former forms. Or was it their deep regret that had locked them into this cruel shape? Empty eye sockets stared at him with deep resentment. They must have suffered gruesome deaths.
Takaya gazed at them quietly, thinking of those he had «exorcised».
His power did not exist to judge them. He no longer believed it could save them. It had been given because he could not save them.
Where was he to find deliverance?
Where had they gone?
The wraiths howled like animals. They unsheathed rusty swords and raised bloodthirsty war cries. Their resentment had no outlet but to hurt people. They were true onryou. They slowly approached, armor creaking.
Leaning back against the tree, Takaya closed his eyes.
To appeal to religion for deliverance was to fling yourself on an illusion. But why not, if it made you feel better? There were others with soiled hands like them who embraced a malice that could not be dispelled. And if that made them feel better, why not?
The onryou soulfully lifted their swords.
Takaya’s last thought was: If it lets you feel peace, then come.
(I can’t save anyone...but in this one way...)
Graaah—!
The onryou horde charged as if ready to lift up the decapitated head of an enemy. Roaring, multiple swords swung down on Takaya.
Gnash!
His eardrums trembled with the feel of pierced flesh.
“...”
Registering an unexpected change, Takaya eye’s opened.
The swords had not fallen on Takaya. A thick staff had pierced the torso of the rightmost warrior. The other three had frozen in place with swords raised.
(Wh...at...?)
A odd charm had been affixed to their backs.
With a whoosh, the onryou went up in flames. They screamed as their spiritual power was leeched away. Within the flames, they withered and finally vanished. Something like black sand drifted to the ground.
A man appeared from the forest.
He was wearing a trench coat. Takaya had never met him before.
The man who had appeared out of the drifting snow was Akechi Mitsuhide.
Mitsuhide looked at him for a moment in silence. He had joined the search after receiving news of Kotarou’s disappearance and Takaya’s escape.
Snow began erasing the warriors’ tracks.
After a long silence, Mitsuhide abruptly spoke.
“Why didn’t you fight?”
Takaya remained silent. His drooped head in profile looked like that of a dying beast. Mitsuhide studied him calmly.
“You acted as if you wanted to be sacrificed. You can still use your «power», can’t you?”
“You didn’t have to...” he murmured in a cracking voice, “You didn’t...have to interfere...”
“You wanted to die?”
Takaya didn’t respond. A small smile hovered at his lips.
“Because you’ve been abandoned?” Mitsuhide asked gently. “Was it the shock of betrayal?”
“He—” Takaya smiled, “He’s not that kind of person.”
“...”
“He’s not the kind of man...who would sell someone out...to save himself. He’s not the kind of man...who could do that.”
“So you never believed Kousaka?”
“If he were to sell me out—” Takaya slowly looked down, “it would be because he wanted to get away from me so much he’d even play the role of a coward...”
“...”
Takaya looked up slowly and said as if he were talking to himself, “—I want him...to be at peace.” His tone was exhausted yet utterly serene. “If he is suffering so much, then... I release him.”
Mitsuhide stared.
Takaya cast his gaze at the sky as if in prayer. Because there was no saving someone so weak as himself.
I give you—
“I give you...your freedom...”
At last he said the name. Then he slowly closed his lips and quietly shut his eyes there in the snow.
Mitsuhide silently gazed at him.
The snow unsullied by blood and death, covering all.
From the sky it fell, the pure whiteness densely descending into the Aso darkness.