Tatsuya began to explain himself.
"I am 38 years old, and I am a samurai from Kiseki. I was Lord Shirui's first and only disciple."
Namida's eyes widened at the mention of Lord Shirui. He had always been Namida's role model, and he couldn't believe that Tatsuya had trained under him.
Aisuru listened to Tatsuya quietly, still suspicious of his intentions. She didn't trust him yet.
Namida then asked Tatsuya what made him trust the witches. Tatsuya's expression turned sad, and then he softly smiled.
"My wife was a witch," he said.
"She couldn't control her powers and went berserk. A samurai killed her."
Namida and Aisuru were taken aback by Tatsuya's revelation. They had never met a samurai who had been so closely affectionate for a witch.
Tatsuya continued,
"After my wife's death, I was filled with anger and hatred towards witches. But then I realized that not all witches are the same. Some of them are good people who are just trying to live their lives. That's when I decided to start searching for the truth about the negative energy and the role of witches. I want to make sure that no one else has to suffer like my wife did."
Namida and Aisuru looked at each other, realizing that Tatsuya was not their enemy. He was just a man who had suffered a great loss and was trying to make things right.
"I understand why you're skeptical of me," said Tatsuya.
"But I promise you that I'm on your side. I want to find the truth just as much as you do. And I believe that together, we can make a difference."
Namida and Aisuru nodded, feeling relieved that they had found an ally in Tatsuya. They knew that they had to be careful, but they were willing to work with him to uncover the truth.
Namida's gaze shifted to the witch who held his sword. The blade gleamed in the dim light of the forest, its edge still sharp from recent use. Tatsuya's words echoed in his mind:
"He is to be trusted."
The witch, a woman with wild, tangled hair and eyes that held both fear and defiance, stepped forward. She wore a tattered cloak, its fabric stained with mud and blood. Her fingers trembled as she extended the sword toward Namida.
"Take it," she said, her voice hoarse.
"But know this: we witches are not your enemies. We fight for survival, just as you do."
Namida hesitated, his hand hovering over the hilt. He had been raised to believe that witches were malevolent beings, creatures to be feared and eradicated. Yet here stood a woman who had saved his life, who had risked everything to protect him from the dark forces that threatened their world.
"Why?" Namida asked, his voice barely audible.
"Why help me?"
The witch's eyes bore into his, and for a moment, he glimpsed the pain and weariness etched there.
"Because we are all bound by the same curse," she replied.
"The negative energy that consumes us, that drives us to madness. We fight to control it, to prevent it from consuming our souls."
Tatsuya clenched his jaw, memories flooding back—the screams of villagers, the burning pyres, the samurai who had slain his own wife when she lost control of her powers. He had witnessed the devastation wrought by the negative energy, and now he stood before a living embodiment of that struggle.
Tatsuya stepped closer, his presence calming. "Namida," he said, "this witch's name is Yumi. She lost her family to the darkness. She fights not out of malice, but out of necessity."
Yumi lowered her gaze, her fingers tracing the sword's intricate hilt.
"I apologize for taking your weapon," she said.
"But we witches have few allies. We must survive, even if it means crossing paths with samurai."
Namida took the sword, its weight familiar in his grip. He looked from Yumi to Tatsuya, torn between duty and compassion.
"I will trust you—for now," he said.
"But understand this: if you betray us, I won't hesitate to strike you down."
Yumi nodded, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and sorrow.
"Understood," she whispered.
And so, in the heart of the forest, three unlikely allies—samurai, witch, and lost soul—stood together, bound by a fragile thread of trust. The truth awaited them, hidden in the shadows, and they would face it together, no matter the cost.