It's a beautiful full moon when I arrive at the park and see Arata facing away from me, shrouded in the shadows of a nearby tree.
"What's up, Arata?" is what I wanted to say. Instead, I withdrew Muramasa from its wrap, gripping the handle tightly as I began to sweat. Something felt off about the old man; I sensed a change was coming, and it would leave either him or me standing.
"Did you ever ponder why I wanted to train you?" he asked, his voice low and intense. "I told you you were nothing, and I meant it. So tell me, why do you think I bothered training you?" The old man seemed... excited? I had wondered about this but never found an answer.
"Why, Arata? Why did you train me?" He turned to face me, and I realized I hadn't had time to confront the fears lurking inside me. Today, it seemed, I would have to. Arata's smile was wide, stretching his cheeks to the point of bleeding.
"I wanted a human who could fill me! Someone who could make me feel it!" As he spoke, I noticed he was holding a katana in all six of his hands. What the hell? He was a devil!, already upon me, driving what I could only assume were replicas of Muramasa into my chest, staining the grass red. My head tilted back, and I gazed at the crimson sky and the blood-red moon. As I tilted my head further, I was greeted by the familiar sight of the Blood River.
"Brat, you listening?" I snapped out of my stupor and managed a confused, "Huh?"
"*Sigh* Did you ever ponder why I wa—" That's all I let him say.
Pushing onto my toes as hard as I can, I close the distance in three seconds. In four, I have the real Muramasa drawn, a horizontal slash aimed straight for his neck. In that moment, he spins around, and as the edge begins to cut into him, I find myself staring directly into his toxic green eyes.
He stops the blade with two hands that emerge from his back, and his smile widens even more than I had seen before. Twisting the blade so that it faces skyward in his grip, I manage to slice his fingers off and quickly withdraw, creating distance between us.
"Hahaha! You truly are amazing! From a waste of space to this!" Now, his other hidden arms are fully on display—six hands, two of which are missing fingers. You can do this, Ryou; it shouldn't be that hard. Right?
Running toward him, I know close quarters is my only option. I realize that my experience fighting against multiple opponents has come in handy. I dodge under a piercing strike that would have blown a hole in my chest, then vault over a slash coming from the left.
I however don't see the third strike coming from my right. The blade slices across my face, starting below my right eye and running over the bridge of my nose. Blood splatters into my eyes, blinding me as I try to back away from Arata. He quickly follows up with another slash, this time cutting deep into my left side. Luckily, I manage to retreat before he can land any more hits.
"Oh, you taste so good, boy! Hahaha! Come on, let me have some more! Fill me up, boy!" His voice sends chills down my spine, and I realize I need a new tactic. Spotting a tree nearby, I sprint toward it and quickly hide behind it.
"Hahaha! You think a bit of wood will stop me from getting to your sweet blood?" Arata mocks as he thrusts his blade through the tree, blowing a hole straight through it. But when the dust settles, he sees no one behind it.
"You think hiding in the tree will do anyt—*Gck*." His words choke off as he looks down and sees me Muramasa in hand buried deep in his chest.
"You think I can't heal from thi—*Gck*." I twist the blade, cutting through his chest and down to his midsection before pulling Muramasa out.
"Your fingers haven't healed from when I cut them off earlier. You probably didn't notice, lost in your crazed high—but I did." I kneel down next to his head, Muramasa's tip hovering just above the middle of his forehead.
His eyes widen in shock, as if screaming, 'This shouldn't be happening! I can't lose to a human!'
"For what it's worth, I'll keep the swords," I say before driving the blade down, ending him for good.
Looking up at the moon, I can't help but wonder 'How in the plums am I going to deal with this body?'
I had come up with a half-assed plan and wasted no time putting it into action. First, I cut off his extra arms. Then, I dragged his body and the severed limbs to one of the fighting arenas, where they'd take care of it.
And it worked! As for the replicas? I took them to my room at the love hotel, which made me realize something—I can't keep living here. I'm pretty sure I'll be asked to provide an address for my new accommodations soon enough.
Back to the replicas. They look like Muramasa, but they don't have the same feel. Muramasa didn't explain much about them when he introduced himself on the train. But if I had to guess? They're probably connected to the Blood River somehow.
Now all I want is a shower, followed by some meditation. So, I do just that: I shower, stitch myself up, and walk out—only to find Muramasa on my bed, surrounded by dust.
"What the plums did you do?!" I yell, unable to contain my frustration. I didn't know what I was going to do with the replicas, but I definitely didn't want them turned to dust on my bed!
*Sigh*. Whatever. It's done, and there's nothing I can do about it now. Tomorrow will mark five days until school starts, and I need to focus and review.
One of my many problems is figuring out how to assess threats. In DxD, they used rankings like Low-Class, Middle-Class, High-Class, and Ultimate-Class, along with another I can't remember. I don't know where I rank here, but if I had to hazard a guess? I'm probably Middle Low-Class. And Arata? High Low-Class, maybe? I know the Redhead is High-Class, and there's no way Arata is on the same level. The only way to really learn is to get information straight from the source.
It's time to initiate Operation: Ninja