The two began their walk in silence the next day. Masami could hardly bring herself to look at Toshiro. What glances she took were awkward and apologetic. She tried to keep her mind on the road and what might lie ahead. It was a pleasant enough day at least, she thought.

 

Don’t like how quiet it is. This isn’t the most popular path, but there should be merchants heading for Amagasaki. Jiro, anything?

 

I’d tell you if there was, boss. I like you being alive just as much as you do.

 

Huh. I guess so. Do you suppose the riders from Amagasaki already reached Ichinomiya? Maybe they’re already walling in. Last time I was through here it didn’t look the most...fortified.

 

What would a wall even do?

 

Masami had no answer for the tengu. She forged on, Toshiro trailing a bit behind her. They walked without pause for hours. Well past midday Toshiro piped up.

 

“Um. Mrs. Hisakawa?”

 

“Hmm? Oh. Yes Toshiro?”

 

“Were we planning to stop for lunch?”

 

“Yes, around midday.” She paused and looked up at the sky. “Ah. Right. I’m sorry Toshiro, must’ve lost track of time. I guess let’s do that now.”

 

They stepped off the side of the path, each unslinging their packs and producing some food from within. They savored their meal as only weary travelers can. When they had finished, Masami stood, motioning for Toshiro to do the same.

 

“Alright. You know how to keep that sword of yours sharp. But now it’s time for you to learn how to draw it. Let me show you first.”

 

Toshiro kept his eyes locked to the old samurai. She shifted into a low, stable stance, right foot in front of her left. Her left hand rested on the sheath of her katana while she took hold of the hilt with her right. In a single sharp motion, she drew the blade forward in an arc as she lunged, cutting the air before her. As the sword reached the top of its arc she drew it back in to a careful guard position, close to her body and held in both hands.

 

“There are several ways to draw a katana, but this is the fastest. Do it when you must prepare quickly for a fight. Drawing it the usual way should feel the same, just don’t lunge or strike. Now, let’s see you try it. One hand on the hilt, one on the scabbard. Draw it quickly, in one motion, and let your arm follow through with its natural arc. And don’t forget to set your feet, and return to your guard position when the cut is done, or you’ll be killed.” She spoke the last part nonchalantly, though Toshiro flinched.

 

“Right. Set my feet, one hand...”

 

The boy planted his feet a little wide, but drew the sword well. His lunge came a little after the cut began and he nearly stumbled. As he finished the cut he tried his best to return to something resembling a guard.

 

“Huh. Not horrible, given it was your first time. But you’re lacking speed, and coordination. And your guard stance is atrocious, your chest is wide open. Hold your sword more like this, so it’s in your opponent’s path no matter how they come at you.”

 

She took his hands to reposition them.

 

“There. Now, try all of that ten more times. Let your arm guide your step, and flick your wrist as you cut. Every part of your body must be engaged. Your entire will needs to be focused on killing your enemy. Goodness knows that the monsters we might come across will thing the same of you.”

 

Toshiro did as he was bade. Ten tries, each a little quicker and cleaner. His tenth was the best of the bunch, and he grinned as the steel flashed out from the lacquered wood of the sheath. He laughed, exclaiming “ha! Not too bad, huh Mrs. Hisakawa?”

 

Masami nodded. “Not a bad draw. But you forgot the most important part.”

 

“I did?”

 

“Yes. You didn’t return to your guard. I really can’t stress enough how imperative it is that you leave yourself open as little as possible. But your draw cut is better than it was before. That’s enough for now. We should get going. Ichinomiya’s only a day or so away now, I’d like to get there as soon as possible.”

 

Masami slung her pack back over her shoulder, waiting a moment for Toshiro to do the same before continuing down the path. They walked at a brisk pace the rest of that day, and by the time night came and they made camp, both were exhausted.

 

When they awoke the next morning, the air was tinged a dull orange and smelled of smoke.

 

“Shit. That’s a big fire. Toshiro, stay here.”

 

Masami sprinted to the tallest tree in sight and began scaling it. Her heart sank as she reached the top. A massive plume of smoke billowed from beyond the woods, in the direction they were headed. Oh gods. We’re too late. She scrambled back down to the ground, calling out “Toshiro! We need to move, fast! Ichinomiya’s burning!”

 

Toshiro stuffed their bedrolls back into their packs as quickly as he could before running to meet Masami. He tossed her pack to her, and both marched as fast as they could along the path. They did not stop at midday for lunch that day, electing instead to eat as they walked. Determination kept them going as much as anything. In the early evening, after nearly seven hours walking, they reached the edge of the woods.

 

Ichinomiya lay in ruins before them. Though the fires seemed to have mostly burnt out, the terrible plume of smoke still loomed above them. A few survivors wandered about, picking through the rubble for anything that might be saved. It seemed that not a single building remained. The ground was an unearthly grey mat of ash, the remnants of what had once been a lush green landscape. Masami dashed down the hill towards the skeleton of the town, approaching the first person she met, a younger woman who was kneeling and searching through the ash.

 

“Hello. My name is Masami, my companion Toshiro and I are here to help. Is someone coordinating the rescue effort?”

 

“Rescue...effort?” The woman turned to look up at Masami. “Takeo...he’s in um, the center of town. Where it used to be.”

 

Masami nodded. “Oh good. I’m glad he’s in charge, he has a good head on his shoulders. Thank you. Alright Toshiro, let’s go find my old comrade and see what needs doing.”

 

They made for what they assumed to be the center of town, trudging through rubble and past a dozen or so shellshocked villagers. As they walked, the true scale of the destruction became clear. A massive crater lay where once the town square would have been. It sunk nearly twelve feet below the surrounding ground. In the center stood a tall, older man in stark black robes. Masami recognized him immediately and shouted “Takeo! Gods above you’re in a jam.”

 

She half walked, half slid down the slope of the crater, jogging over to Takeo.

 

“Well I’ll be, if it isn’t the old dog herself. You picked a crappy time to pay a visit.”

 

“Maybe. You could sure use a hand though. What’s the situation?”

 

“It’s about as bad as it looks. Late last night there was a terrible screech and an explosion of flame from the center of town. I didn’t see it up close. But the people who did are whispering things about Akuma. Whatever it was, it was powerful, as you can see by the crater. More than half the townsfolk are missing or dead. The thing pretty much flattened everything it could before flying off towards the mountains.”

 

Masami shuddered. “I have a bad feeling I know where it went.”

 

“Yeah, me too. Anyway, we’re trying to find as many survivors as we can. Who knows how many people are buried under rubble out there.”

 

“Right. Where do you need us?”

 

“Head to the southeast of town. Something there you’re going to want to see. And it’s the place with the fewest people already searching.”

 

As the pair spoke, Toshiro walked around the perimeter of the crater in a state of shock. The blackened ground and the thick coat of ash hardly seemed real to him. He knelt and took a pinch of ash between his fingers, rubbing them together and spreading the dust to the wind. It felt oddly soft. Almost pleasant. A strange and thoroughly unpleasant combination of feelings, he thought. In the distance, he thought he heard someone call his name, but he continued his walk.

 

“Toshiro!”

There it was again. Of course. He snapped out of his stupor and looked over his shoulder to see Masami waving him down. “Sorry Mrs. Hisakawa! Be right there!”

 

He dashed down towards her. “Alright. What’s the plan?”

“We’re heading off to help search for survivors. I uh, I’m sorry in advance. It’s probably pretty gruesome out there. Just try not to think too hard about it if you see something gnarly, okay?”

 

Toshiro shrugged. “I’ll be fine. I help skin and gut the goats in the wintertime, there’s not really much I haven’t seen.”

 

“If you say so. Time’s wasting, we need to go.”

 

With that they trudged towards the southeast of the ruined town. The bottom floors of a few burnt out buildings still stood more or less, their stone bases blackened and cracked but mostly undamaged. Masami pointed to one off to their right. “Search in there first. If we’re going to find anyone, they’d be stuck in a building somewhere. I’ll head over left and start looking myself. Bring anyone you find back to Takeo, there’s a makeshift infirmary near him.”

 

“Sure thing.” With that they parted ways and set about their grim task.

 

The building Masami entered first appeared to have been a house. Several piles of rubble lay on the floor, the remnants of the upper stories. She called out “hello? Anyone in here?” as she began heaving at the ashen beam atop the nearest pile. There was no reply. As she dug down to the base of the broken and burnt wood, she soon saw why. A blackened corpse was all there was to greet her. Its mouth lay open in terror, and much of its flesh had burned away, exposing half-burnt bones. She grimaced and murmured an apology, for all the good it would do.

 

The other piles were no more fruitful, though it seemed that first corpse was the only unlucky soul in this building. Masami dragged the body out as gingerly as she could and propped it against one of the interior walls. With that she headed for the next building in line. As she exited through the backdoor of the house, she saw something that made her stop dead in her tracks.

 

There before her lay a very familiar corpse. A young man, with batlike wings protruding from his back and two demonic legs, not unlike her arm. He was face down in the ash, his body totally unburnt. The ground around him bore a starburst of char. Masami approached cautiously. Jiro, is that...?

 

Sure looks familiar.

 

Yeah, I think he was one of the younger members of my old squad. Dead, right?

 

How am I supposed to know that better than you?

 

Masami drew her katana as she came near the corpse. Seeing that it didn’t move, she knelt down to flip it over. The face that greeted her was pristine, as perfect in death now as it had been in life. Yeah, that’s Kenshi Nakamoto. Good lad, always had a joke in him. What the hell is his body doing here of all places? He’s been dead for twenty years now.

 

Oh, come on. You must have a guess by now. The tengu cackled as he spoke. Or have you forgotten how the beyond realms work?

 

I do have a guess. And if it’s right, we’re beyond fucked.

 

Perhaps. I have faith it won’t kill you to face them all again, oh hero of Takayama.