The forest breathed in silence.
Only the distant rustle of leaves and the soft crackle of a lone campfire disturbed the stillness.
Five tents belonging to Squadron Six stood in a loose circle beneath towering trees. Weapons leaned against logs, armor hung from low branches, and wooden crates filled with supplies were stacked along the edges of the camp.
At the center, a clearing had been claimed as a training ground.
Samurai gathered around it in a loose ring, their voices low with anticipation.
At its heart stood Captain Itsuki.
A bokken (Wooden Sword) rested lazily against his shoulder, his posture relaxed… almost careless.
Across from him stood Shinju.
A few paces behind the circle, Rin and Ina watched in silence.
One samurai folded his arms, a grin tugging at his lips.
"Captain's sparring again. This should be good."
Another let out a quiet chuckle.
"Against Shinju? The kid's got guts, I'll give him that."
Itsuki rolled his shoulder once, eyes settling on Shinju—calm, unreadable.
The murmurs faded.
Both raised their bokken.
And then—
Stillness.
Even the wind seemed to hesitate.
Shinju locked his gaze onto Itsuki.
Itsuki stared back.
The space between them tightened… stretched thin like a drawn blade.
Itsuki tilted his head slightly.
"Make your move, lad."
Shinju inhaled slowly.
His grip tightened around the wooden sword.
His pulse steadied.
The moment his breath left him—
Itsuki vanished.
Shinju's eyes widened.
Too fast—
CRACK!
The strike landed clean across his back.
A sharp, precise blow.
The force sent Shinju hurtling forward—
He slammed into a stack of supply crates, wood splintering on impact as he crashed through them. Dried rations and cloth burst into the air, scattering across the ground in a cloud of dust.
A collective wince rippled through the watching samurai.
"Ouch…"
"That had to hurt."
Dust settled slowly.
Shinju groaned, pushing himself up from the broken crate, his movements stiff.
Each breath felt heavier than the last.
Footsteps approached—calm, unhurried.
Itsuki stopped in front of him, bokken resting once more against his shoulder.
"You forgot our deal."
Shinju lowered his gaze.
His fingers tightened slightly against the ground.
"…Sorry."
A pause.
"…It happened on instinct."
Itsuki studied him for a moment… then exhaled through his nose.
"Instinct, huh…"
A faint snicker escaped him as he reached out, ruffling Shinju's hair.
"We'll continue this later."
He turned, addressing the squad without raising his voice.
"Alright, everyone. Prepare yourselves."
A single clap cut through the air.
"For tomorrow. Long road ahead."
The samurai straightened instantly.
"Alright, Captain!"
A few lingered, murmuring under their breath.
"That ended quicker than last time…"
"Yeah…"
"I guess even the Dark Samurai isn't a match for him."
Off to the side, Rin tilted her head, eyes still on Shinju.
"Ina… what did Itsuki mean by deal?"
Ina crossed her arms, her gaze following Shinju as he brushed dust from his clothes.
"It's simple," she said.
"If Shinju wants Itsuki to train him… he can't use that technique during sparring."
Rin blinked.
"Why not?"
Ina didn't look at her.
"Because if he relies on it…"
Her voice lowered slightly.
"…he'll die."
Rin's eyes shifted back to Shinju.
He had already turned away from the clearing.
Walking off alone.
There was no anger in his steps.
No hesitation.
But something about the way his shoulders were set—
Felt heavier than before.
Like he was carrying something no one else could see.
The moon hung low in the sky.
Its pale light shimmered across the surface of the river, breaking gently with each passing ripple.
The forest was quiet again.
Shinju stood at the riverbank.
Barefoot on the cool earth.
A bokken rested in his hands.
He exhaled slowly.
Then—
Swing.
The wooden blade cut through the air with a sharp whistle.
Step.
Another strike.
Precise. Controlled.
Swing.
Again.
And again.
Each movement carried intent—yet something about it felt… forced.
His breathing grew heavier.
Faster.
The rhythm began to break.
Swing—
He stopped.
A presence.
Subtle… but there.
Shinju's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Who's there?"
Silence.
The river flowed.
Leaves rustled faintly in the wind.
"…Show yourself."
A blur.
Something moved between the trees—fast.
Too fast.
Shinju turned—
A single leaf drifted down in front of him.
His focus snapped to it—
Now.
A sharp chop struck the back of his neck.
Everything went black in an instant.
As his body collapsed, his fading vision caught a glimpse—
A familiar face.
"…Raizo…"
Darkness.
---
Voices.
Distant at first.
Blending with the steady rhythm of hooves against dirt.
"…I still can't believe you did that."
A laugh.
"Yeah, that was stupid."
"Shut up."
The sound of horses.
Leather creaking.
Wind brushing against cloth.
Shinju's eyes fluttered open.
Blurred shapes.
Movement.
He blinked slowly, vision clearing—
He was on horseback.
His body slumped forward slightly, barely held upright.
Seated.
His body felt heavy.
"…Itsuki…"
Itsuki, riding just ahead, glanced back slightly.
A faint smirk touched his lips.
"Ah. You're awake."
Shinju said nothing.
Not a word.
Itsuki let out a short laugh.
"How was your rest?"
A pause.
Shinju's gaze hardened slightly.
"…Right."
Itsuki chuckled.
"Don't look at me like that."
He tilted his head forward slightly.
"I was the one who told Raizo to knock you out."
Silence.
Shinju didn't react.
Didn't question it.
Itsuki continued, voice calm.
"Training is good… but too much of it dulls the body."
He glanced ahead at the road.
"If you keep pushing past your limits without rest, your movements slow… your instincts blur."
A brief pause.
"You stop growing."
The wind passed between them.
Shinju's grip tightened slightly against the saddle.
"…Where are we going?"
Itsuki smiled faintly.
"Finally talking, huh?"
Shinju said nothing.
"We're making a stop in a nearby town."
"Okumura."
---
By the time they arrived, the sun had long set.
Lanterns lit the streets of Okumura Town, casting warm light across wooden buildings and narrow paths.
Their horses slowed as they approached a district lined with decorated entrances and softly glowing lights.
Laughter drifted through the air.
Music followed.
A man stepped forward to greet them.
An old man with a wide grin and slightly hunched posture.
"Ah! The Revolutionary Army!"
He bowed quickly, almost eagerly.
"What an honor, what an honor! We've been expecting you."
His grin widened.
"Please, come in, come in."
He gestured toward the large establishment behind him.
Two women stepped forward, dressed in matching blue kimonos.
"This place is reserved for you tonight, we will show you around."
The squad dismounted and followed.
Itsuki was walking away when he suddenly turned back to the old man.
"Oh, before I forget," he said lightly.
"Tell your people not to touch the boxes locked with chains," he said firmly. "Under no circumstances should anyone go near it or attempt to approach it. Someone will be sent later with a proper command to pick it up."
The old man rubbed his hands together and nodded. "Understood. I will inform them not to go near it."
Then Itsuki turned and walked away.
Steam filled the air.
The soft sound of water echoed through the bathhouse.
Shinju sat submerged in the hot spring, shoulders finally relaxing beneath the heat.
For the first time in a while—
His body felt… light.
Across from him, Itsuki, Renji and Raizo leaned back comfortably.
"How does it feel?"
Shinju exhaled quietly.
"…Good."
From beyond the wooden wall, laughter echoed.
High-pitched.
Playful.
The women's side.
Itsuki smirked slightly.
"Curious?"
Shinju's eyes narrowed.
"…Why would I be?"
Itsuki let out a short laugh.
"Relax. I'm joking."
Shinki and Tashi chuckled.
Kazan nudged Shinju lightly.
Still—
A faint redness crept across his face.
He sank slightly deeper into the water.
The laughter outside continued.
Later—
They gathered in a large room.
Dressed in fresh yukata.
Itsuki wore a white robe with black stripes, loose and effortless.
Shinju's was a muted grey.
Rin sat nearby in soft pink, while Ina wore deep purple.
Food was laid out before them.
Steam rising from freshly prepared dishes.
The room buzzed with quiet conversation.
Rin glanced around before speaking.
"Um… I hope you don't mind me asking…"
She hesitated.
"Why are we staying in a place like this?"
A brief silence.
Ina calmly picked up her cup.
"Because one of the higher-ups really likes this kind of place…"
She took a sip.
"...In other words, he has questionable tastes."
Rin blinked.
A comedic pause.
"…Oh."
Tashi burst out laughing.
Some of the others joined in.
Elsewhere—
The old man (Masashi) suddenly sneezed.
He rubbed his nose, grinning to himself.
"Heh… a beautiful lady must be talking about me."
Night settled quietly over Okumura.
Lanterns swayed gently in the warm breeze, their soft glow painting the streets in gold.
Inside, laughter and music still filled the district.
But far beyond that—
— Far from Okumura, in the Empire of Valdoria —
The streets were in chaos.
Boots pounded against stone.
A royal messenger rode through the city on horseback, his voice cutting through the air as he shouted—
"The King and Queen are dead!"
"The King and Queen are dead!"
People froze mid-step.
Shops fell silent.
Conversations died in an instant.
"…What?"
"No… that can't be…"
The horse raced past, leaving shock in its wake.
"They… succumbed to illness!" the messenger continued. "The royal family has fallen!"
Murmurs erupted across the streets.
Clusters of citizens gathered, voices rising in confusion and fear.
"I pity the poor prince…"
A man lowered his voice.
"Have you not heard?"
The others leaned closer.
"There's a rumor… it hasn't been officially announced yet…"
A pause.
"They say the prince is dead too."
Silence.
"…What?"
"He went to enemy territory," the man continued. "Tried to negotiate peace."
His expression darkened.
"They killed him."
A woman covered her mouth.
"No… why would they do that…?"
"He was a kind and gentle boy, he didn't deserve that…"
The weight of it spread like wildfire.
A fisherman, still carrying his net over his shoulder, pushed through the crowd.
"The prince is dead?" he asked, stunned. "I just returned—I didn't hear anything about him leaving the capital…"
Another man shook his head slowly.
"This is a tragedy…"
"The King… the Queen… and now the prince…"
He looked around uneasily.
"…So who takes the throne now?"
A brief silence followed.
Then someone spoke.
"The King's brother."
All eyes turned.
"…Zaire."
"The throne passes to him now."
His hands tightened.
"That greedy bastard."
A younger man frowned, unease creeping into his voice.
"…Are we sure the prince is really dead?"
The group stiffened.
He lowered his tone.
"What if this is something else…?"
"A setup… a coup…?"
"Shh!"
Someone grabbed his arm sharply.
"Don't say things like that!"
They glanced around nervously.
"If the wrong person hears you—"
"You'll disappear."
The young man swallowed hard.
"…Right."
No one spoke after that.
But the doubt lingered.
Heavy.
Unspoken.
(Back in Okumura — present)
Warm light.
Laughter.
Music.
Inside the district, the atmosphere was completely different.
The room was calm.
Low wooden tables sat neatly across the floor, each surrounded by cushions. Plates of food—rice, grilled meat, and small side dishes—rested between them, some half-eaten.
Steam rose faintly into the air.
Voices overlapped.
Cups clinked.
Squadron Six had settled in comfortably.
Some of the men laughed loudly, already deep into their drinks.
One of them—Shinki—was at the center of it, grinning as he joked with the others.
"You call that impressive? I've seen better swordplay from a farmer with a stick!"
The group burst into laughter.
Another stood, attempting a clumsy dance, earning cheers and mock applause.
The atmosphere was relaxed.
At one table, Itsuki lifted his cup, fingers loose around the rim.
Conversation drifted quietly between the men.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing out of place.
In the far corner—
Two large boxes sat in silence.
Bound.
Chained.
Still.
Itsuki's hand paused mid-air.
His eyes shifted slightly toward them.
A brief silence.
…Huh.
He lowered the cup just a little.
I didn't expect him to be this quiet.
Inside the box—
Darkness.
Stillness.
Shinsuke
His upper body rested upright, positioned carefully within the confined space. His eyes were closed.
His expression—
Calm.
Too calm.
Like a man deep in meditation.
Or sleep.
No tension.
No struggle.
Just stillness.
Unnatural.
Itsuki's gaze lingered.
"…He's awfully quiet."
No one responded.
Some didn't understand.
Others chose not to react.
After a moment—
Itsuki looked away.
As if it wasn't worth thinking about.
He raised his cup again and took a sip.
The quiet conversations resumed.
Soft.
Normal.
For now—
They were just soldiers enjoying a moment of peace.
The tension of the road had melted away—for now.
But not everyone was lost in the moment.
Outside—
Away from the noise—
The air was cooler.
Quieter.
A small garden rested behind the building.
Stone paths curved gently through patches of grass and carefully placed rocks.
Beside it, a bamboo fountain—its hollow arm slowly filling with water—
…clack.
It tipped.
Water spilled.
Then reset.
The sound echoed softly in the night.
Shinju stood near it, gazing up at the moon.
Its reflection shimmered faintly in a nearby pool.
The light traced across his face.
Still.
Quiet.
"Shin."
A voice behind him.
Rin.
She stepped closer, her soft pink robe brushing lightly against the ground.
Shinju's eyes shifted slightly.
"…Did you just call me Shin?"
Rin blinked.
A small pause.
"…I did."
She looked away for a second, suddenly unsure.
"…Do you not like it?"
Shinju turned his gaze back to the sky.
"…No."
A brief silence.
"I don't have a problem with it."
Rin's eyes widened slightly.
Then—
A faint blush crept across her cheeks.
"…Oh."
The bamboo fountain tipped again.
Clack.
The quiet lingered between them.
Shinju's expression remained calm… but distant.
Something doesn't feel right…
Rin tilted her head slightly, studying him.
Before she could say anything else—
A sudden burst of laughter echoed nearby.
Two younger girls ran past the edge of the garden, giggling as they chased each other.
"Hey! Wait!"
"You're too slow!"
Their laughter faded into the night.
Rin smiled faintly.
"…Looks like they're having fun."
A small pause.
Shinju pressed a hand lightly against his head.
A faint headache.
Sharp.
Unsettling.
For a split second—
The garden flickered.
The lantern light warped… bending slightly out of place.
Shinju's eyes narrowed.
Then it was gone.
"…I'm going back."
Without another word, he turned.
Rin watched him for a moment—
Then followed.
The night air brushed against them as they walked.
Cool.
Gentle.
For now—
There were no battles.
No enemies.
No answers.
Only silence.
Thank you for reading Chapter 12.
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