Watching Adachi and Mito play tag has made me remember the events of my childhood.
It all started when I was very young. I was walking home with food from the market when I was suddenly attacked in an alleyway. A bunch of delinquents wanted to steal our food and maybe do bad things to me as well. I never found out their true intentions because my older brother showed up in the nick of time to fight them off. At that time, I didn't know how strong my brother truly was. So, I urged him to run away with me instead of staying to fight. He didn't move from where he stood, and instead turned to look at me with a smile.
He said to me, "If I don't teach these guys a lesson, they may come after you again! So just run back home, Kina. I'll handle things here."
I took his advice at first, running out from the alleyway into the street. However, when I heard punches and yells coming from inside the alley, I couldn't help but go back and watch. I peered around the alleyway to see my brother finishing off the last of the delinquents by himself. I couldn't understand what I was seeing. Was my brother always this strong?
As he turned around to leave the alley, he saw me watching from the corner. He was fairly beaten up, but not nearly as much as the men that lay strewn across the floor.
I yelled at him for his recklessness, and he laughed it off as we walked home. That's when my time as a doctor began. When my brother and I made it home, I treated his bruises and cuts to the best of my knowledge. He praised me for my work, even though it was poor. His praise spurred me on to do better. Unfortunately, I never received praise from our father or mother, as they died before I could remember. Brother tells me that father died before I was born due to starvation, and mother was so weak from hunger that she died during childbirth.
From that day onward, my brother continued coming home with fresh bruises and cuts. I tried asking him what was happening, but he just laughed my questions off with a smile.
"I just tripped and fell," he would tell me.
Although I knew it was a lie, I had no other choice than to treat his wounds and accept his explanation. This continued for around two years. His injuries continued to grow worse every day. Finally, one day, I couldn't bear it any longer, so I followed him out of our house to see what was really happening.
He told me he was going to the market to get food every day, and indeed he came home with food. However, he would come home with fresh injuries as well. As I followed him, I realized that we weren't headed towards the market but instead towards a part of town I had never been to. I watched as he walked towards an inconspicuous stone building and met a man wearing regal clothing and jewelry. I had no idea who he was, but my brother didn't seem too fond of him. He sheepishly followed the man into the building and disappeared from my line of vision.
I continued to watch the building, too afraid to walk in. I watched as carriage after carriage pulled up to the entrance, and wealthy people walked into the same building. Finally, I realized that this building was far too small for the number of people that had wandered into it. I had come this far. There was no turning back.
I walked up to the building and entered. Inside, there was a staircase that led downwards into a flame-lit hallway. I carefully stepped down each stair into the dungeon-like area. I could hear cheers and chatter coming from down the hallway. As I got closer, I heard sounds of impact and cheers erupting from the people inside.
Finally, I entered the room... no, the arena in which the noise was coming from. Clamboring past each regal-looking individual in the crowd, I made my way to the front where I could see what everyone was looking at. At the center of the circular room was a pit that held many fighters. One of them was my brother.
In the crowd of people, I saw the man that my brother had walked in with. He was in a seat higher than all the rest, clearly in charge of the event.
My eyes turned to the ongoing battle, where I realized a horrible truth. There were eight fighters in the arena, including my brother. They all had swords and spears, besides my brother.
The seven unknown fighters circled my brother, not attacking each other even once. They were teamed up in a seven versus one.
I tried to yell out to my brother, but I choked up, realizing that my presence would only hinder his fight. The only thing I could do was stand and watch.
Two fighters charged my brother at once. He dodged one's spear, but the other's sword cut his arm just barely. He quickly took advantage of the spear user's balance to rush past his reach into an uncomfortably close position. He sacrificed his arm's integrity to land a blow on the spearman!
He was unnaturally quick, slamming his fist into the spearman's stomach. The spearman flew back into the wall behind him, coughing up blood after the impact. The crowd erupted with boos and negative comments, and I heard one man mention his bet on the match. Finally, I realized that this was a gambling club for the rich and that each of these people sees my brother as a gambling asset rather than a person.
My brother was shaky and tired. This match had been going on as long as I had been hesitating outside. All over his body were cuts and bruises that weren't there before. This is the worst shape I have ever seen him in.
I stood there, mortified, as he exchanged blows with the men in the arena. Each of his swings was blunt and strong, but their cuts left him bleeding and injured. Finally, he had taken down all of them but one. The largest of them all stood with a short sword, ready to take on my brother. The man had a few bruises, but my brother had so many cuts that I could hardly recognize him.
I want to scream and shout for my brother to run as far away as possible, but I can't. If I let him know I'm here, he might lose on my account. Please, brother! Please win!