Kabata Katsuki

“Imma take my revenge… from that motherfucker… One time after another, all that motherfucker has given me is…”

The leather eyepatch stood beneath the blonde hair.

“… Pain…”

THUD. THUD. THUD. The black ankle-length boots walked through the dark corridor colored faintly orange because of the flames on both sides.

“… Embarrassment…”

The image of my eyes opening wide came in front of me as I looked at my sword being hit by a purple kazi wave and splitting into two came in my mind.

“… Despair…”

“And yer left eye too, remember.”

“And… a stain on my pride… on my self-confidence.”

***

Isekai’d

Written by Dhruv Pabreja

***

“It’s… troubling me now, Ayato.”

I stood in front of the railing with my head tilted down. I had both my arms intercrossing each other at the top of the railing. The terrace stood some stories up the green watered garden with perfectly cut bushes forming the boundaries, with a white dazzling fountain in the middle. The sun was setting down and it was evening in the sky. I wore a black eyepatch on top of my left eye as I had my head tilted down.

Ayato stood beside me in front of the railing. He too had his head tilted down and his back bent a little to the front at the railing, like me. “What’s troubling you?”

“All this hero fuck that’s been happening recently,” I replied in a low and serious tone. “We are slowly progressing toward the end fight. Don’t ya think that… we might lose?”

“We’re not losing against those nine kids, Katsuki,” Ayato replied. “Plus, they’re not standing just against the seven of us, but rather, they’re up against the whole Dansamian army. Statistically speaking, it’s impossible for them to win this fight.”

I continued to glare down in despair for some seconds silently. Then, I replied, “… Statistically speaking, it was impossible for The Bar to win against The Seven Sinners some days back.”

“It was the two of us who made them win that night.”

“That night, it was us, but on the night of the fight, it might be someone else. Who knows?”

“But… why would someone fight for the hero?”

“Remember why we did?”

Ayato turned his head at me, looked at me for a couple of seconds, and then turned his head to the front again. He sighed. “Huff! Right.”

We both stood silently then as the sun set slowly on our right. The dome of the castle was lighted with the faint yellow color of the dusk as the sun was slowly fading away. Darkness was rising in the sky, with the blue color slowly transforming into black.

After a couple of seconds, I suddenly said, “Remember our childhood days?”

“It’s always been hard on us. Always.”

“Ishida-sama had it far worse.”

“That doesn’t cancel out our pain, does it?”

“Right.”

There was silence between our figures again. Ayato turned to his right, looking at the sun just on top of the horizon, showcasing its orange flames in the sky all around it. I too turned my head to the right, looking at the sun setting on the other side of the figure of Ayato.

“I guess it was around the same time when the news of Ishida-sama’s death came in.”

“Yeah. That day too, the sun was burning brightly in the sky.”

“And it was around the same time when our first day here at the castle ended… when we were just kids.”

“Don’t remind me of the first day.” Ayato smiled a little. He then turned to his left at me.

“I don’t know why… but because of what has happened today… I feel quite nostalgic.”

“Life was good from the day we became the sinners up until this point,” Ayato commented with a smile.

“Yeah, but now I feel like… we’re entering the phase of despair again.”

“Don’t worry, Katsuki.” Ayato turned his head to the right, looking at the sun setting. “This might be the last one. After this, either we die, or we live happily ever after.”

“Yeah, and… both are peaceful, in my opinion.”

Ayato turned to me with a smile and sarcastically replied, “Dunno about the second one, but the first option sure is.”

I smiled a little too. “Yeah.”

Ayato then turned to the sun again. “… You’re the only one who’s so loyal to the king, especially because you pity him so much.”

I turned my head down again, smiling a little. “The king… was just a kid… when his parents died. Wasn’t it the same with me…?”

“Sure was, but… he… only sees you as a tool to be used in warfare, pal.”

“Masters always see their servants as tools, but… this loyalty is embedded in me. I respect him for how much he’s grown and changed over the years, fighting all of it.”

“He sure is the king ‘born with bad luck’.”

“Yeah.”