It was something to really think about. How could the one person who could rival me to some extent struggle against a demon I took down without even looking him in the eye.
The thought spun in my head like a wind turbine as I carried Nana toward the mansion. After long minutes of banging and shouting, the gates finally creaked open. A few girls—half asleep, oil lanterns flickering in their hands stood there blinking at us.
This was exactly what I'd feared earlier, but the situation had changed.
No words were needed. They recognized the girl in my arms at once and rushed forward to take her toward the clinic where they treated the sick.
Everyone hurried off with her. I was left standing alone, not a single word spoken to me. I hadn't expected a welcome party, but a little recognition wouldn't have hurt.
I trailed behind them instead of wandering the mansion. I ended up sitting cross-legged in the corridor outside the clinic, hitting the monk meditation pose.
Hours passed, but it felt like minutes, deep sleep does that. When morning came, two soft taps landed on my shoulder. I looked up—maybe too sharply. She jerked slightly, almost unnoticeable, but it was there.
"Senior Nana is asleep in the room if you'd like to see her," she said. Her voice trembled. Why was she frightened?
I stood and followed her. As we entered the hall, murmurs and whispers filled the space. Girls stared at me, talking among themselves. It didn't feel good. I really wanted to know what they were saying.
My attention stayed on them so long I didn't notice we'd reached the door. I bumped into the girl and nearly dropped to my knees apologizing, but she dismissed it with a forced smile. She stepped aside. I slid the door open.
There she was—lying on the bed, covered with a thin sheet.
As I stepped inside, it hit me: this was the same room where we'd first met. Now the roles had reversed. She was the one on the bed.
I crossed the room in quick strides and sat in the chair beside her. The roles had truly flipped.
Up close, her sleeping face looked innocent and peaceful. Her hair had lost its blue shade—maybe dyed, maybe natural fading.
I looked up and saw the girl still standing at the door. She turned to leave, then stopped. Took a long breath, gathering courage, then turned back.
"Are you Tatsuya Uzui?" she blurted.
"Yes, I—"
Her face lit up. She spun and bolted out of the room.
I never did understand these girls. Even during my short stay here, they'd treated me like a shadow at first, then stared with disdain. Now they were asking my name.
I was about to relax into the chair when the main clinic door slammed open. Greetings and morning pleasantries floated in, then the person stepped through.
She wasn't as I remembered. Very different from the last time I saw her. Her muscles were defined, making her look more like a gorilla now. Open arms, legs, and face covered in burn scars. One arm was missing.
"Tatsuya?" The first words out of her mouth, her face painted in shock.
***
They took me to the main house, not the trainee quarters, but the main house where the two Hanako sisters lived, once home to Ms Ayuma. The same house where I'd last seen Gorilla before leaving.
On the way, I couldn't help wondering why she showed no interest in her sister lying in the clinic bed. She'd barged in looking only for me. Even in the room, her eyes never once drifted toward Nana. All her attention stayed on me. It didn't feel right.
As we walked, I felt the piercing stares again from people in the courtyard. If memory served, their number had grown since the last time I was here.
"New faces here and there?"
"It can't be helped," Mui said. "The current war has only displaced people. Families lucky enough to stay together are given homes in the village. Girls with no one to care for them come here. Boys are sent to Kenji. That's how it's been."
"It's sad. But I can't help wondering if I had any part in the misfortune that befell them. These stares are getting out of hand."
"The stares? Don't mind them. You may not know it, but you're famous around here."
"Me? Famous?"
"The Tsugikuni brothers talked about you a lot. Mr Yoriichi said you were one of the finest he'd seen. How you helped prevent the clash between the Tsugikuni general and the Himori general, and ended up making Michikatsu and the rest of the clan resign from the war. I found it hard to believe you did all that, but I know Mr Yoriichi doesn't lie. Words spread like wildfire and here we are…"
"Wow. That's… too much, I guess."
"So, an errand was it? That lasted how many years? Six? Seven?" Mui asked. My throat tightened.
"It's a bit complicated."
"What's complicated? That you went out to the world for 'first-hand experience'?"
Shit. Those were exactly my words to Ms Ayuma the day I left. Wait! Was she eavesdropping?
"Don't act surprised. I was Teacher Ayuma's personal trainee. She tells me almost anything."
"Oh…" She hadn't eavesdropped. She'd just been told.
"I'm not angry that you left, Tatsuya. It's just—if you know you'll leave, it wouldn't hurt to let the people around you know why."
This again?
"I didn't want to be a bother. And besides, I had no friends here at all."
"Hmm. Don't let Hachiro hear you say that. It really hurt him after you didn't come back from your errand in three years." She chuckled, more mocking than warm.
"Where is Hachiro, by the way? At the quarters?"
"Hachiro left us some time ago," she said, ascending the verandah and heading into the living room.
"By 'left us' do you mean…"
"He isn't dead, Tatsuya. He got promoted and moved to a house of his own not far from here."
We entered the living room. She gestured for me to sit. She left for a few seconds, then returned carrying two cups and a kettle all in one hand. She set them on the table, poured, and handed me a cup. At first glance it looked like green tea.
I took a long sip. A peppery burn hit my chest, the roof of my mouth, my nose. I coughed hard, lungs emptying.
"Ginseng?"
"What were you expecting? Wine? Or maybe you don't like it—I can get you wine if you want—"
"No, no. It's fine. I was just caught by surprise." I took small sips while she sat across from me.
"You're not going to ask?" she said.
"Ask… Oh, yeah. I'm sorry—how did it happen?"
She held her cup steady with her one hand and stared at the missing one. Her gaze felt hollow. "It was the hut."
"The hut?"
"You were there the day I reported it to Teacher Ayuma. The same day you told her you wanted to leave. Later, Teacher Ayuma was assigned the mission, and I followed her naturally." She drew a deep breath and let it out. "Nana wanted to come too. She was fit then, but we rejected—I rejected her. Things didn't go as planned. We ended up in a situation we couldn't escape. I was already half-dead when she found me. But she was fine, unharmed. If she'd gone alone, she might have made it out. But when she came back to save me, she got caught in it and… she died. I killed her."
"You didn't kill her." The words came out on their own.
"You can't say that, Tatsuya. You weren't there—"
"Yes, I wasn't there, but I know Ms Ayuma. She was smart. She wouldn't do something without knowing the price. Bet all she thought about was saving you, Mui. And I know that you know it."
"Weeks after everything, when I finally woke up, all I could think about was Nana. I wanted to see her, talk to her, but she avoided me. She said I was the one who got Teacher killed." Tears rolled down her face. She wiped them quickly. "If only she could give me one moment to talk to her, and apologize for—"
"Teacher Mui!!" A girl burst into the living room. "Senior Nanamiya is awake!"
"Oh, that's good…" She tried to hide her relief. "I'll be there in a minute."
The girl nodded and ran off. I looked at Mui. Even if I didn't know the full state of her relationship with her sister, something told me she wasn't ready to face her—not yet.
"I should get going—"
"Wait! Let me talk to her first. Just give me thirty minutes. Then, after the mood has lightened a bit, you can come."
Mui didn't think long. She looked at me and gave a small nod of approval.
As I was about to leave, she stopped me.
"Thank you for hearing my story."
Her voice ached with pain. I felt every bit of it as I left the room.