The arena erupted with cheers as Kaito stepped forward, his presence alone commanding attention.
"You got this, Kaito!" shouted Satoshi, his voice carrying over the noise. His black hair, unkempt and reaching nearly to his shoulders, swayed as he leaned forward, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"Crush him!" Ryuji hollered beside him, grinning. He was the same age as Kaito, a lifelong friend from their training days. His sharp features and short hair made his excitement all the more evident.
Kaito shot them both an irritated glance. "Stop shouting and let me focus!"
Reiko, standing just behind them, chuckled. "Everyone's shouting, but he only hears you two? Let him concentrate."
Ryuji smirked. "Alright, Grandpa," he teased, standing up straight. "We'll shut up, but we'll write our excitement on parchment and present it to the world."
Reiko sighed, shaking his head. Unlike the others, he was older and more seasoned, even serving as a tutor in the dojo for a time. His long black hair was neatly tied into a braid, his face marked by lines of experience. Still, despite his words, his gaze remained fixed on the arena, pride evident in his eyes.
The announcer's voice boomed across the battlefield. "From this side, we have Kaito Kitotsuki of the legendary Horiyama Clan!" A wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"And facing him, Nakama Yoshimata of the renowned Tori Clan!"
A hush fell over the audience as the announcer raised his hand. "The battle shall commence. Both contestants, ready?" He paused, eyes flicking between them. "Begin!"
A deep gong rang through the air, and in an instant, Kaito and Nakama vanished from their starting positions. Gasps filled the stands as their blades met in a flurry of sparks, each strike faster than the eye could follow. What seemed like flashes of light were, in truth, the sheer speed of their clashing swords.
Steel met steel in a rapid exchange, each fighter maneuvering with precision. Nakama's red eyes burned with determination, his short hair whipping in the wind as he struck with calculated aggression. Yet, Kaito was faster. More precise. With a sudden feint, he diverted Nakama's sword, twisting his wrist in a fluid motion. Before Nakama could recover, Kaito's blade rested just inches from his throat.
The arena fell silent for a split second before the cheers returned tenfold. Defeated, Nakama sighed and lowered his weapon in surrender.
The roar of the crowd was deafening, forcing Satoshi and Ryuji to cover their ears.
"The kid did it," Reiko murmured, a small smile gracing his lips.
Kaito returned to them, and without warning, rapped Satoshi lightly on the head. "If you can finish your match faster than I did, I'll grant you one request."
Satoshi rubbed his head, feigning annoyance. "Anything?"
"Anything."
"Then… let me meet Musume. You have connections since you once guarded her older sister."
Ryuji's smirk widened. "Oh, what's this? Young love?"
"Oh, shut up, long-face," Satoshi shot back. "Just because you can't get a girlfriend doesn't mean I can't."
Ryuji's grin faltered for a second, but before he could retort, Reiko stepped in. "Enough bickering. Save your energy. Ryuji, your match is up soon."
Minutes later, Ryuji stepped onto the battlefield. Though he often wore a carefree demeanor, the moment he took his stance, a shift in his aura was undeniable. The fight was over in an instant—his opponent barely had time to react before being bested.
One by one, the matches continued, and each of them claimed victory. Finally, it was Satoshi's turn.
Kaito clapped him on the back, a smirk playing on his lips. "Alright, kiddo, do your best. If you win, I'll make sure you meet Musume."
"Keep your promise, and I'll make my opponent cry," Satoshi replied, stretching his arms.
"Yeah!" Ryuji chimed in with a wink. "Destroy your opponent, and I might even give you your twenty mon."
Satoshi barely glanced at him. "Win or lose, you still owe me. But since I'm going to win, double it."
Ryuji's protest was cut short by the announcer's voice. "And now, for our next match!" The crowd quieted as he gestured towards the fighters. "On this side, we have Satoshi Nawa-Kara Kitotsuki of the legendary Horiyama Clan!"
The cheers swelled as Satoshi stepped onto the field.
"And his opponent, Togori Kiriyama of the esteemed Kiriyama Clan!"
The tension in the air was thick.
"Let the fight commence!"
The sound of the gong rang out, cutting through the cheers like a blade, signaling the beginning of another intense duel.
The match begins with a sharp clang of steel.
Satoshi surges forward, blade in hand, meeting Togori's katana head-on. The force of their clash sends a shockwave rippling through the arena, the crowd roaring at the sheer intensity of the fight.
Togori doesn't just hold his ground—he dominates. His strength is like a relentless tide, every swing of his sword pushing Satoshi further back. Each strike is heavier, faster, sharper.
A brutal kick slams into Satoshi's ribs—he barely manages to block it with his forearm, but the impact still sends him skidding across the stone floor.
Damn it. He's too strong.
Satoshi grips his katana tighter, trying to steady his breathing, but Togori is already upon him—a downward slash, merciless, powerful. Satoshi barely manages to parry, his arms trembling under the force.
And then—
His vision shifts.
The world blurs for a moment, and suddenly—he sees them.
Deep, fatal cuts.
Not just shallow wounds, but gaping slashes across Togori's body. Across his chest, his throat, his heart.
Wounds that could kill.
Just like before
Togori tries to counter, but he's too slow. Too human.
Another slash. This one at his neck.
The crowd gasps.
The referee steps forward—
But they're too late.
Satoshi's body doesn't care about the match. It doesn't care about the rules.
It moves only for one purpose.
To kill.
Togori's knees buckle. He's seconds from death.
In desperation, he does the only thing he can.
"I yield!" he shouts.
His katana clatters to the floor.
The match is over. The fight should end.
But Satoshi doesn't stop.
His hands tighten around his sword. His stance shifts—preparing for one last, fatal strike.
His body is still in control.
He moves forward—blade aimed for Togori's heart—
And then—
A hand clamps onto his shoulder.
"Well done, kiddo."
Kaito.
His brother's voice cuts through the fog.
Satoshi's breath hitches. His vision sharpens. His yellow eyes flicker back to normal.
The pressure on his limbs releases. And red cuts dissapear
His sword slips from his fingers, hitting the ground with a cold, ringing chime.
Togori, wide-eyed and trembling, stares at him.
Satoshi steps back, his heart pounding. His hands tremble as he stares at them.
What the hell just happened?
The red slashes. The inhuman precision.
The way his body had moved without him.
The truth is terrifying.
If Kaito hadn't stopped him—
He would have killed Togori.
"That was brutal," Ryuji remarked, glancing at Reiko before shifting his gaze to Kaito and Satoshi. "His precision was something else."
Reiko nodded. "Yeah... like he was aiming to kill, not just to win."
Ryuji's expression darkened. "You're thinking what I'm thinking?"
Reiko let out a sigh. "It can't be… Maybe he's just improved." He looked up at the cyan sky. "Drala was the last known wielder of that style."
"Akuma no Kaihō," Ryuji muttered under his breath.
"Well, whatever the case," Reiko said, brushing off the thought. "Our winner is heading our way."
Satoshi and Kaito approached them, but something was off. Satoshi didn't look pleased with his victory—he seemed anxious.
"What's with that face?" Ryuji teased. "You upset because I haven't paid your 20 mon yet?"
With a smirk, Ryuji pulled out the coins and handed them over. "Here you go, crybaby. Debt settled."
Satoshi took the coins without a word, ignoring everyone as he walked past them and out of the tournament grounds.
Reiko watched him go. "What's his problem?"
Kaito shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe he's just eager to meet Musume."
Outside, Satoshi found a lone cherry blossom tree and sank down beneath it, his hands trembling. He stared up at the sky, trying to steady his breath.
"What's happening to me...?" he whispered. "First during training with my brother… and now here. Why can't I control my body? And these red, glowing marks…" He lifted a shaking hand, staring at the strange patterns now etched into his skin.
"Something bothering you?"
A soft voice startled him. He looked up to see a young girl, probably younger than him, standing nearby. She smiled and held out a neatly wrapped onigiri.
"Here," she said.
Satoshi hesitated before taking it. "Thanks." He took a small bite, his mind still clouded.
After a moment, he glanced at her. "Sorry, but… who are you?"
The girl tilted her head slightly, as if amused by the question.
"I'm Musume Tachibana," she said with a warm smile.