The flames of battle had finally subsided, leaving only silence and the stench of blood and scorched earth. Mirai and Rai stood among the fallen, victorious but painted in crimson, their breaths still heaving from the intensity. Mirai's gaze swept over the battlefield, lingering on the bodies strewn across the blood-soaked grass. His eyes still glinted with bloodlust, unable to shake the primal thrill of the fight, even as the last echoes of combat faded.
"Where is he…" he murmured, his grip loosening on the blood-streaked blade as he finally registered the stillness around him.
"No clue," Rai replied, running a hand through his tangled hair. His eyes turned away from the aftermath, drifting to the edge of the forest. "Ryoshu also disappeared…" A sigh escaped his lips, frustration coloring his expression as he shifted his weight on the sullied soil. His gaze fell on the villagers huddled nearby, wrists and ankles bound with rough rope, their faces pale and bruised.
"Focus on them for now," Rai suggested, already stepping out of the clearing. "I'll go on ahead to check the perimeter."
"Understood," Mirai whispered, turning to approach the terrified villagers. He moved with a steadiness that belied the carnage he'd left behind, his blood-smeared hands reaching carefully for the bindings. Yuri, her face streaked with dirt and tear tracks, looked up at him. Her eyes, wide with disbelief, were red-rimmed and brimming with fresh tears as she took in the sight of the young samurai before her.
"You actually…" she stammered, her voice breaking as relief overtook her. Mirai, though smeared with the remnants of battle, managed a soft smile as he untied the last knot binding her hands.
"I told you, I'm a man of my word," he said with a grin, his voice gentle amidst the destruction. At his words, a small figure burst from the shadows. Shou, a young boy, sprinted toward his mother and threw his arms around her, clinging to her with desperate fervor.
"Mom! I was so scared!" he sobbed, clutching her with tiny fingers that dug into her torn cloak. His face pressed into her shoulder, muffling his broken cries as he shook with relief. Yuri pulled him close, her own tears falling freely now, her arms a trembling shelter around him. Mirai watched them, his expression softening as mother and son clung to each other in the darkness, as if the nightmare of the night would dissolve in their embrace.
Meanwhile, deeper in the forest, hurried footsteps trampled the damp grass, each step frantic. The man stumbled, his chest heaving as he caught himself on the muddy ground, his hands clawing into the soil as he stared down at his own fingers, slick with blood and grime.
"Damn it…" he cursed under his breath, fingers curling around the hilt of his weapon. The blades peeked through the gaps in his grip, gleaming faintly in the pale light filtering through the treetops. "I underestimated him. How can his true self be so much stronger?"
"Where're you going…" a voice, low and dangerous, sliced through the silence. The man's head jerked up, eyes wide as he found himself face-to-face with a masked figure emerging from the shadows—a samurai, one hand resting ominously on his blade's hilt. The mask concealed Utsusuki's face, adding an eerie intensity to his presence as he stood, unmoving.
"Utsusuki! The enemy…he's back at the village!" the man stammered, his voice laced with desperation. He clutched at any excuse, any lifeline that might save him. "He's weak, so you should—"
Utsusuki cut him off, drawing his sword with a fluid, practiced motion, the blade angled toward the earth as it caught the faint glow of moonlight.
"You can't be serious—" the man muttered, voice breaking as he glimpsed his own terrified face in the reflection of Utsusuki's blade. He glanced back up, meeting the samurai's chilling gaze, hidden but unyielding.
"After everything I've done for your family?!" he roared, his fear giving way to defiant anger. He straightened, his frame towering over Utsusuki as he tried to summon his old confidence. "You'd all be dead without me!"
"And I thank you for that…" Utsusuki replied softly, his voice as calm as it was deadly. The gratitude, uttered so genuinely, seemed to confuse the man, anger turning his face red as veins bulged in his neck.
"You—you…" Words failed him, panic flickering behind his eyes as he realized he had no blade, no chance of escape. He drew himself up, a final bluff on his lips. "Fine! If it's a fight you want, I'll give it to you!"
He charged, desperation fueling each step. Utsusuki waited, unfazed, and with precise timing, swung his blade. The man's charge halted abruptly as the sword met his neck, cleaving clean through with lethal grace. His body staggered, collapsing onto the ground with a dull thud, his head lolling as crimson poured from the wound, staining the grass beneath him. His vision blurred, the world slipping away as his body bled out before his own disbelieving gaze.
"You… ungrateful…" he gasped, his voice a fading whisper as his thoughts unraveled, eyes rolling back as death took hold.
Utsusuki watched him fall, then staggered back himself, clutching a still-bleeding wound at his side. Shallow breaths rattled through the cracks in his mask, and he leaned against a nearby tree, catching himself. The quiet rustle of leaves caught his ear.
"You decided to follow him, huh?" he muttered, a faint sigh escaping as he turned to see Rai emerge from the shadows.
"You killed him…" Rai murmured, his eyes sweeping over the bloodied corpse splayed out on the forest floor. "We were hoping to get some intel from that guy—"
"We?" Utsusuki replied, his gaze sharpening as he looked at Rai, noting the unreadable glint in his companion's eyes.