Revenge at Hitotoribashi

His fury would not, could not be quelled.

His knuckles white, he held on tightly to the hilts of his swords, swinging them relentlessly at the enemy forces. Why did they deserve any mercy? Their leader was a cruel, unjust monster who couldn’t even BEGIN to understand what pain he’d inflicted on him. For every foe that fell, so did another of his own men. For every man of his in turn that fell, so did another tear from his eye. They went unseen in the shadows surrounding his face. His blades tore through the flesh of everyone who stepped into his way, so his own men kept themselves far apart. They understood his pain. They would let him do as he wished.

While they did their best to hold off the massively larger numbers coming at them, their lord hoped to deliver swift justice to the bastard at their reigns. The sound of the shots, the smell gunpowder, the skip of his own heartbeat…They were all fresh in his mind. A child he was no more, but the trauma refused to vacate. It was his own mistake that had led to this. He’d been out of control. He’d let things get to the point where the others would go to extreme lengths to stop him. The least he could do was make him suffer for the anguish he’d caused.

The way cleared. Dozens ran from the rampaging dragon’s path. The ground itself bled, soaking the light rainwater and blood into its dry tunnels. Every step he took was another toward the murderer, and on the other end, the murderer knew that he was the target.

One didn’t just cause the death of another’s father and get away with it.

Leaving a trail of death behind him, he stepped up and faced the other lord, looking up from the tips of his blades for the first time since he’d drawn them. The other shifted backward. There was only anger…only rage…only intent to kill in that eye.

“Are you ready to die…? That’s your only out. You can’t just run or get your little, untrained warriors to defend you…Your only option is to let me run you through…”

With a flick of his wrist, the blades focused on the man before him. From the center of his body, sparks jumped down his arms and to the sharp points of his claws. His heart raced. All he could see was what he imagined to be his father’s final moments. He could only see the riverbanks stained with the blood of his people, his kin, the rest flowing with the water out to the sea. Someone near the mouth would see and wonder whose it was. They wouldn’t understand the torture this put him through. They wouldn’t know who suffered because that blood was spilled.

What the man had said in response went unheard. All the dragon cared for was fulfilling his goal, his promise. So many times, he’d wept and begged for forgiveness. He hadn’t been able to do anything more. He’d just sat there and cried, yelled for them to release the only man he felt cared about him. If he had just thought of another way, he wouldn’t have had to order his own death…

The boy on that day had gone home full of fear, full of anxiety, full of grief…and today, at Hitotoribashi, he’d come back with sword in hand. That boy had died. In his place was a young man filled with a lust to see blood spill.

So when the claws struck the opposing figure, he had let them. There was no stopping it. As he fell, he realized quickly he wouldn’t be granted a fast death. A faint smirk had grown on the other’s face, one that reflected the madness that had afflicted him in the months since they’d last met. “…You’re funny…I won’t let you escape the pain. You’ll feel every wound, every trail of blood, every portion of your disgusting soul as it leaves your dirty body behind…”

While the battle behind him raged on, he could only feel his own fury. What happened there had stopped mattering. Shredding the other’s skin, he felt laughter bubble up into his chest and escape. Extending his fingers from his position in the middle of his nearly vanquished enemy’s abdomen, he nestled his index finger and thumb around his eyelids, prying them open. With his other hand he clawed at the eyeball beneath them until his hand could wrap itself around it. Ignoring the screams, he lifted one of his blades and severed the eye from its host. “See…? Now we match…Can you see NOW what you’ve done to me?!”

From below, a few from both sides paused and looked up. Only one stopped completely.

His hand reached down and tore away the stray tissue and muscle. What he wanted was beneath them. Creating a fist around the intestine he found, he ripped it from its home. A laugh forced itself from his lips as he felt it squish beneath his fingertips. He couldn’t stop, continuing to cut and tear as much as he could. He wanted him to suffer.

Footsteps came up behind him, building in intensity before a pair of hands lifted him from his spot. He screamed, thrashing about to try to escape. He struggled and shouted that he wasn’t finished. He insisted that it wasn’t over until he was satisfied. Still, no response came from the owner of the hands. He tired himself, going near limp in the unbreakable hold that kept him. Instead, he started to sob, a weak, hoarse noise that started as more of a croak.

The boy rose from the grave, his mourning not yet complete. He took his place back inside of the body, shoving the young man away. Finally, the arms released him and walked around to his front, locking themselves back around his small frame.

“Lord Masamune…You have done all that you had promised…There is no need to linger here.”

     Looking up to meet the other’s gaze, vision blurred from tears, he shook his head. “Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet! Not yet!”

He repeated the words over and over. Repetition was new. It hadn’t been a problem before. It was just another of the things that had recently started to plague him. Reaching up, the man removed the helmet from the boy’s head and held him close, trying to soothe the cries that came out sporadically between his proclamations of “Not yet.” It became clear that the only way to remove him would be to physically lift him from the area.

Before it escalated any further, he secured his hold on the boy and lifted him into his arms like the child he still was inside, forced to grow too quickly. “Rest your head…We are going home…”