He looked back to his ax, which he’d placed on the wall near the barbell he’d been using but decided he might have one last shot at resolving this peacefully.
Rokshasa charged!
But his opponent’s reflexes were faster than he’d hoped—the old samurai recovered from his last attack by bringing the piece of iron into a spin! Rokshasa managed to evade the first arc but subsequently was hit in his side, causing the warrior to collapse to the ground but—fortunately—away from the next strike.
I started to move on Uban, but as Rokshasa crawled backward he shouted: “No, Tavon! You haven’t fought Uban Kai before; do not expect to defeat him in his madness!”
To my relief, Rokshasa found it within himself to return to a stand before running toward his weapon.
Uban, anticipating this, altered his stance into a crouch before using his strength to heave the barbell in my friend’s direction! Rokshasa didn’t have time to respond; the piece of iron was being hurled at the center of his heart prepared to claim his life!
I stepped in between them, wrapping my hands around two distant positions before redirecting the bar’s momentum well enough to send it flying away from both combatants!
The Kai leader, roaring and burning with hate, decided to rush Rokshasa regardless if I was in his path or not. It was irritating to be thought of as so insignificant when I’d come so far, so I grounded my stance before readying my fists!
“Tavon!” Rokshasa pleaded.
As Uban charged forward, I lunged while attempting to place a solid hook on the samurai’s jawbone.
Uban, his arms much longer, reached out to push me to the ground as he absorbed the blow! His focus finally turned toward me, and I felt his immeasurable strength as he rained his fists down upon me.
I couldn’t keep blocking hits like that! His power was unnatural; no wonder I’d been warned not to fight.
In an instant, Uban Kai seemed to recall something and simultaneously reached for one of the kunai he’d affixed to the back of his belt. While he was distracted, I jabbed at his abdomen with all my might… but he was indifferent pain.
Uban prepared to thrust the knife down into my skull, his arms having now expanded into grotesque appendages. He smiled wickedly and consecutively screamed as he brought the weapon down and ignored my efforts to stop him!
A wave of blood splashed across my face as a sharp hunk of iron buried its way into Uban’s skull.
I felt a tremendous weight collapse atop me as the former Kai leader sunk to his knees before tumbling to the floor wordlessly.
“Hurry.” Rokshasa said as he hefted the corpse above me, his ax still deeply enclosed within Uban’s scalp.
I escaped from under the body while trembling from an enormous amount of adrenaline.
He’d saved my life.
Rokshasa gazed off in the distance while pausing before his slain opponent. He’d been coated in gore and bared a more despondent demeanor. Rokshasa rolled over the fallen warrior and looked again into the man’s eyes.
Black and white specks remained. Although Uban had fallen, he looked as though he could return to life at any moment.
I didn’t know what to say to the samurai, and so I waited in silence with my companion until Naizo and the Elder had arrived to investigate the commotion.
--
Naizo was ready to accuse, “Rokshasa… you’ve murdered a family member?! —Y-you’ve murdered someone before the Elder!”
“Be silent!” The Elder demanded before walking toward Uban’s downed figure. “Can you not see that one of our own has been… changed.” He glared at Naizo.
The son’s will faltered as he quickly turned embarrassed. “I-I simply thought—”
“Not thought…” Elder Nagao retorted. “Hoped.”
Rokshasa and I hastily bowed before the leader of the Nagao clan as the samurai shouted, “I apologize, Elder. My life…” He paused. “It is yours to do with as you wish.”
“Oh?” The Elder remarked before turning to address me. “And do you feel the same, Tavon Nagao?”
I hesitated, wondering if I could say something that would clear my friend completely of his blame.
“Milord, Uban Kai attacked Rokshasa. He wanted to—”
“That’s not what I asked.” The Elder wielded an odachi he passed over the samurai to hold at my throat with a grin. “Do you pledge your life to me, Tavon, regardless of your guilt?”
Loyalty.
I wanted to assure him, but this didn’t feel natural. There was something about the Elder that removed my prior respect…
“Tavon!” Shouted Rokshasa. “He is your lord and master—you must obey him as a privileged member of the Nagao!”
“I pledge my life.” I said.
Elder Nagao held the blade at my throat for a moment, eyeing me, before he lowered the weapon and snorted, “The image of a man like Rokshasa turning on his own people… it is absurd.” He then chuckled and visibly relaxed. “I was made aware of Uban’s transgressions by Rokshasa once before, but the solution…” The Elder smiled at me. “I didn’t expect it to fall into my hands so easily. It appears this clan has inherited a warrior, a second to Rokshasa.”
I still wasn’t good enough.
--
Despite having witnessed Uban’s death, the desire for even greater strength burned within me. I didn’t understand how much it would take to catch up with someone like the Elder or even Rokshasa, but a part of me believed I could best both of them.
I didn’t see Beatrice for more than a week after her father had passed, and I wasn’t sure how to speak to her about it.
On one afternoon, subsequent to a grueling sparring session with Rokshasa, we relaxed at a mess hall commonly used by higher-ranking members of Nagao. I inquired about Beatrice, which seemed to darken his mood for a moment as the samurai attempted to gather himself.
“She’s the leader of the Kai house now, but she’s locked everyone out… The Elder needs her helps before the next big operation, but I don’t know if she can forgive me, Tavon.”
The samurai reddened shamefully. “I don’t think she knows you were there, but I killed him… a member of the Nagao. It is dishonorable.”
“No. It’s not.” I said firmly.
Rokshasa looked at me for a moment. “Why did you make the Elder wait?”
“Wait for what?”
“You know what I’m talking about, brother!” He grumbled. “You looked disobedient, like you were ungrateful he’d taken you in—why?”
“It’s not that…” I looked away. “It’s just…”
“Do you not believe in our lord’s leadership? Do you not recall all he’s done for you?”
“I do.” I replied in defeat. “I was a fool to say anything; I’m sorry…”
Rokshasa seemed confused but eventually composed himself and even seemed to believe everything I’d said. “My apologies as well.” He stated. “I must have read too much into it—I was nervous, too, Tavon… Naizo thought it was me!”
The samurai shuddered.
“He’s only an asshole to you because he knows you’re stronger, Rok! Don’t let him get to you—even the Elder could see that you were just protecting yourself.”
“But Uban…” He sighed. “I grew up wanting to be just like him; a warrior.”
--
The Meiziki had come.
Now that I’d established my reputation, Elder Nagao consistently invited me to private tea rituals he often conducted with his closest subjects. Rokshasa, of course, was one of those subjects—along with Naizo and Beatrice. In her absence, I’d been given her spot on all matters relating to the survival of the house. The Elder was preparing to deliver his strategy for success past just the destruction of the Meiziki Clan; the Nagao believed they would show the world renewed strength and take territory from both Uesugi and Meiziki. But the Elder had bided his time, waiting for word on when Meiziki would send for the shipment of nanotechnology—and with or without it, our enemy
had decided that they would act of their own accord.
I sat next to the Elder, who seemed to have grown fond of me despite me never really expressing gratitude. I’d appreciated what he’d done for me, but I was gaining too much pride to admit it. It felt like expressing weakness, and I couldn’t do that anymore.
“Tavon,” Naizo began, his tone permeated with disgust, “why do you continue to serve the Nagao?” He smirked. “If you can keep up with Rok, why waste your talent on a dying clan—”
“Naizo!” Rokshasa exclaimed.
“Excuse me?” The heir to the Nagao stood to his feet.
“My son—”
“No, father! Rokshasa aims only to please…” He scowled. “He would attempt to silence someone within the highest echelons of the family—your son! This cannot go unpunished!”
“Unpunished?!” I came to my friend’s defense. “Rok has pledged his loyalty to Elder Nagao—”
“I’ve got this one, Tavon.” Rokshasa said as he confidently stepped to Naizo. For a moment, I believed he’d broken free of his servitude.
“How dare you, scum!” Naizo cursed him.
Rokshasa smiled. “Upon sight of my strength, you weep as if you were someone’s widow and soil yourself like a baby kitten.”
Naizo’s rage came to a peak. He was ready to possibly even attack the samurai, and breathed in deeply before shouting: “You—!”
“Lord Nagao!” A foot soldier burst into the shrine. “Lord Nagao!”
“WHAT!?” Naizo redirected his rage at the newcomer.
“Speak, brother!” Rokshasa chimed in.
“M-… the Meiziki have sent messengers!”
Rokshasa grew pale. “Messengers.”
“Their men say that they wanna try to negotiate ‘one last time.’”
“The idiocy!” Naizo exclaimed. “Where are they?”
“On their way up. I—”
“You didn’t stop them?!” Naizo moved toward the mobster while pressing a short sword into his chest. “Explain yourself!”
“Sir, I… uh…” The soldier was overcome with fear. “Please,” he said.
Naizo glared at him while at the peak of his rage.
“Son!” Elder Nagao exclaimed.
The heir to the Nagao moved to put away his weapon, but subsequently brought the hilt against the messenger’s cheekbone, crushing the spot it as the man fell against the wall.
“You must remember to make them fear us.” Naizo declared calmly. “Do not compromise the reputation of this family, subject!”
The messenger shook as he spoke, “Y-yes, sir!”
Rokshasa sighed, “Pathetic.”
This prompted a quick reaction from Naizo, who strutted toward the samurai shouting, “I demand you be stripped of rank, Rokshasa!”
“What?” His eyes grew wide.
Naizo smirked. “From this day forward, Rokshasa is not a—”
“Please excuse us from butting in, but we have business to discuss.”
“No. It can’t be.”
Everyone in the shrine became silent.
“This was not the reception I expected.”
“It’s you…” Naizo remarked bitterly.
The Nagao family had become affixed on someone with whom I was unfamiliar. But he stood by an old acquaintance, a person I’d never expected to see again.
Dfari.
28
It’s Your World
DFARI STOOD BEFORE us garbed in crimson, leather body armor, similar to Rokshasa’s own but darker, and waited next to the one known as Mendo Meiziki. My hatred for him… I couldn’t feel it at that moment, and the young mobster kept his gaze solely fixed on Elder Nagao.
While Dfari maintained an overtly serious stature, Mendo appeared much more carefree. He was home, after all.
“Why… why have you come here?” The Elder spoke with a mild aura of disappointment.
Mendo chuckled, “You can’t say you didn’t miss me, old man.”
Elder Nagao’s firstborn happened to be very slim but toned; Mendo was taller than everyone in the room, sported long, dark hair, and wore only a red vest for protection over a black undershirt and pleated trousers. On his back, he bore the weight of an odachi quite similar to the Elder’s if not even larger in appearance.
Dfari remained silent while the room’s full attention directed itself toward the traitor.
“Your presence here is a disgrace!” Naizo confronted him.
Mendo’s glance was enough to break his sibling’s spirit, “Refrain from speaking nonsense, brother; this is a conversation meant for adults.”
Naizo clutched his fists angrily, but his eyes expressed… impotence.
Even Rokshasa had found himself shaken, but he gathered his resolve and approached confidently, “What business do—”
“Do not speak for me.” Elder Nagao interrupted nonchalantly. “Mendo is my son.”
Mendo smiled, “And you are still very much a fool.”
“How dare you!” Rokshasa moved between the two of them, finally confronting his childhood mentor. “You turned your back on your own kin!” He continued shouting. “You would’ve inherited Nagao for yourself!”
He blinked. “… That is not the life I desired. There’d be no real excitement for me in dying due to an old man’s refusal to surrender.”
“You’ve lost yourself, Naizo.” Rokshasa replied.
“Are you issuing a challenge?”
“Challenge?!” Rokshasa stared at him in bewilderment. “How can you speak of such things after betraying us?”
“Because it’s the last chance you guys are gonna get!” Dfari yelled in a fury. “Now shut the fuck up and listen to what Mendo’s got to say?”
“Eh. You’ll have to excuse my associate.” Mendo looked genuinely irritated; he, too, understood the kind of person Dfari was. “I took him from Ovo…”
The Elder’s face darkened. “You’ve murdered your own son.”
“Indeed.”
“How far will you go?”
Mendo laughed. “I learned from your mistakes, pops. I sided with the Lower-City’s future—something you should have done long ago!” His face grew more serious, instability revealing itself in Mendo’s features. “Your ambition has clouded your judgment; you are a stranger to me.”
“Just explain to me what this is about…” The Elder responded.
“Hmph.” Mendo composed himself before speaking more formally, “The Meiziki have extended their courtesy to you more than once, and you have rejected our offer for peace.”
“Peace?!” Naizo exclaimed.
“What the Meiziki have offered is not peace, Mendo.”
“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “Before I came to my senses, I distinctly recall other messengers… people who wished only to discuss a future between our clans. You disposed of them—although you act as if you don’t remember, dad.”
“Our Elder would never harm a messenger!” Rokshasa retorted.
Mendo smirked. “But Naizo would… the Nagao are, naturally, a very violent family—in fact, their predisposition for slaughter is the only reason they still exist.”
“What do you mean?” Rokshasa seemed broken.
“I mean that Meiziki claimed the arms trade long ago. Nagao, however, proceeded to negotiate with anyone… anyone, Rok.” He grasped the samurai’s shoulders earnestly.
Naizo and the Elder looked to me before ordering in unison, “LEAVE!”
“No!” Mendo stopped me from leaving.
This time I imagined Dfari would look, that he would recognize me; instead, he didn’t even bother glancing in my direction.
“That kid is a legend to the Meiziki!” He laughed. “If not for him, Ovo would’ve bombarded my men.” He smiled at me. “I could’ve died.”
“Yes, now leave this place!” Naizo insisted.
“Absolutely not, Naiz.” Mendo spoke more aggressively. “He’s of the Nagao as well…” He sighed. “But I see the old man hasn’t changed th
e way he treats strangers. You’ll always be an outsider to him, kid.”
“And you’ll always manipulate others with your lies, I see.” The Elder replied, the anger rising in his tone. “So, what offer of peace do you present, Mendo?”
“Surrender to the Meiziki. It’s your only option now.” Mendo looked at him grimly.
The Elder replied while grinning smugly. “What do ‘the Meiziki’ presume to do if I refuse?”
“That’s the only thing I ever liked about you: your passion for a challenge. And so, if you refuse, I request a champion to contest the integrity of the Nagao.”
“I… don’t understand.” The Elder said in puzzlement. “You wish to fight me then?”
“Exactly two weeks from now, whoever believes he is the true champion of the Nagao will be tested.”
“And if I refuse that offer as well?”
“Hmph. We’ll kill you all tomorrow, if that’s how you wanna play.”
Dfari grinned.
Tension built in the room, with Rokshasa mentally preparing himself to strike down both of the messengers.
“The Nagao…” The Elder began. “Bear might passed down through the ages; we deserve a legacy in this world for what we’ve accomplished.” He drew closer to Mendo while meeting his gaze. “A warrior does not surrender to a cause in which he does not fully believe, Mendo. The path you have chosen…” He shook his head. “It’s become twisted.”
“No.” Mendo replied flatly. “You’ve destroyed your own family with your arrogance. The Meiziki’s power can no longer be stifled from further growth, and therefore I will inform our leadership of your desire to produce a champion… —and to be honest,” he snorted and laughed, “I think that’s what they wanted all along! To see if the Nagao contain true strength.”
--
After the messengers from the Meiziki Clan had departed, I practiced my striking for several hours at the gym with Rokshasa, who’d become a wordless shell of himself.
His eyes were empty when we proceeded to spar as usual, but his abilities were at their peak. The samurai was suddenly able to fend me off much better than before in hand-to-hand combat, and his attacks grew significantly swifter.
The samurai quickly upped the intensity of our training in the following days. I turned eighteen without realizing how much time had passed as we remained focused on our own improvement. Rokshasa was frustrated at my refusal to learn anything more advanced than my fists, and this revealed itself when he began to fight me for real in brief spurts.
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