Bonus Chapter!
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Drip
Drip
The sound was like droplets falling onto stone.
Thick blood pooled on the old wooden floor, seeping in easily, casting a dark crimson hue in the dim light.
Ayase's lips quivered as she raised her hand to her mouth in shock.
In the middle of the room, two figures stood back-to-back, each holding their swords, frozen in place.
Everyone, from Ayase to Kuraudo's gang members, instinctively held their breath, as if caught between hope and fear.
An indescribable tension filled the room, a mix of emotions shifting with every heartbeat.
The first to move was Kuraudo.
His large frame wavered as he stumbled, dropping to one knee, his serpent-bone sword hanging limply from his grasp.
"What… was that move… called?" he asked, his voice carrying a newfound weakness and a faint tremor.
Okita Souji returned her Kiku-ichimonji Norimune to its sheath, answering in a calm tone.
"My secret technique—Mumyo Sandanzuki."
Okita Souji's ultimate technique, a demonic sword strike honed to the level of a Noble Phantasm. Her unique Triple Thrust combines the First Thrust, Second Thrust, and Third Thrust in such a way that they "exist simultaneously in the same position." Even if one thrust is blocked, the second and third will pierce through, causing a spatial disruption at the tip. This technique becomes an unstoppable strike, with distortion in form at the point of impact, excelling in both offense and destructiveness.
"Mumyo Sandanzuki, huh…"
Kuraudo repeated the name several times, his tone holding a mix of admiration and something deeper.
"That's… quite a sword stroke. Worth waiting for, even a hundred years if necessary."
"But…"
Kuraudo staggered as he rose to his feet, casting a fierce glare at Okita, who still had her back to him. "You… weren't using your full strength, were you?"
Ayase and the gang members gasped in unison.
Okita didn't answer, but Kuraudo didn't need her to.
To swordsmen, the clash of blades was the purest form of communication.
A person's character, past, goals, and even obsessions—all of it could be understood through their sword.
So…
"I could feel it. Your sword wasn't wielded to protect or save anyone. It's a weapon made purely for killing."
A sword honed only for slaughter, now being used to protect—that couldn't possibly be her full strength.
A sword burdened by something it was never meant to hold.
…Killing?
The unshielded eye of Ayase widened in confusion as she looked at the petite figure standing before her.
Even with Kuraudo's words laid bare, Okita still said nothing, her silence adding to his frustration.
"Tch!"
With a sigh, Kuraudo dismissed Orochi Maru, the bone sword disappearing from his grasp.
Clutching his chest, he staggered toward the exit.
"You'll be at the Seven Stars Sword Art Festival, right? By then, I'll be strong enough to make you use everything you have."
"And when that day comes… I'll expect to see an even greater technique than the one you showed me today."
Okita turned, just in time to see Kuraudo punch one of his gang members on the head as they reached out to support him.
Of course, Okita hadn't forgotten why she'd come here in the first place.
"And what about the dojo?" she called after him.
"It's yours to do with as you like. You won, after all."
Without looking back, Kuraudo waved dismissively, as if he couldn't care less.
Okita blinked her amber eyes in mild surprise—then found herself suddenly enveloped in a hug.
"…Senpai?"
She blinked again, momentarily at a loss.
Was she supposed to hug back?
"Thank goodness…"
Ayase's whisper, barely audible, drew Okita's attention.
"Thank goodness… you're still here… You didn't leave me…"
Okita wanted Ayase to trust her.
But the nightmares Ayase had relived countless times resurfaced vividly during the battle, every second of Okita's struggle against Kuraudo bringing back images from two years ago.
This time was even more perilous.
Her father hadn't been a Blazer, and their fight with Kuraudo had used wooden swords.
But this time, Okita and Kuraudo had fought with full-powered Devices.
She hadn't dared take her eyes off Okita, fearing that even a moment's lapse would mean her junior would fall—just as her father had.
If that had happened… Ayase knew she'd never forgive herself.
Okita had only fought because of her.
But…
"You really did it… Souji…"
For once, Ayase allowed herself to shed tears of relief.
As if a heavy storm had finally lifted, the nightmares that had haunted her for two years vanished, all because of the person in her arms.
Okita had actually won, even against someone as monstrous as Kuraudo.
For two years, Ayase had fought Kuraudo again and again, trying to reclaim her home, to avenge her father, to prove the worth of Ayatsuji Ittou-ryuu.
But in the end, Kuraudo dismissed her as "a waste of time."
She'd hoped to face him again as a representative at the Seven Stars Sword Art Festival, where he would also represent his academy, Tenrou.
But today, her most cherished junior had kept her promise.
Okita had reclaimed everything Ayase had lost—and returned to her safely.
Every bold word Okita had spoken, she had fulfilled, without missing a single one.
"Senpai… could you let go? This is… a little embarrassing."
"No, just let me hold on… just a bit longer…"
The usually shy and reserved Ayase held her ground, asserting herself for once.
The warm, swelling feeling in her heart… What was it?
Relief? Affection? Dependence?
Even Ayase herself couldn't quite define this intense, burning feeling.
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