by Bryce Allen
He could see a wide, covered balcony across from their staging areas, overlooking the arena. Kenji could make out the emperor, sitting in the center, with his son by his side.
Below them were the parties from all of the regions. Kenji tried to find Ebusu, but from his vantage point he couldn’t recognize anyone.
As Kenji was searching for Ebusu’s face, the crowd erupted. He felt the vibrations of a thousand screams take his breath away. The emperor stood up and approached the railing of his balcony. He held up a single hand, and the roaring ended.
Kenji’s ears rang for a moment, but he heard the emperor address the crowd.
“Citizens of this grand empire, welcome!”
His voice exploded over the crowd, as clear as if Kenji was standing next to him. The crowd gave a short burst of applause before eagerly waiting for his next message.
“After forty-seven years, we are here again to determine the owner of the Zettai and the protector of the realm. This is not only a Tenno Tournament, but a celebration of the peace that has ruled the land for a decade!
“May the best warrior win!”
The crowd erupted again, but now drummers from every corner of the arena struck huge drums in unison with each other. The ominous beat started slow, the low bass drowning out the crowd. The speed of the beat increased, and Kenji felt his heartbeat increase with it.
A tournament official approached the staging area and lined all the champions up. Kenji was in the middle, but he didn’t mind. As long as he wasn’t first. Last was Hiroshi.
The drumming ended with a dramatic flair, and the official led the line to the center of the arena. Kenji felt exposed. All around him the crowd’s eyes were following him. He looked out over the sea of people, in awe of their presence.
The main official announced each champion to the crowd, giving each of them a few moments to fully appreciate the crowd’s modest applause. Kenji assumed people only cheered for their region. A mixture of pride and embarrassment washed over him when his name was called. He was the exact same person he was a month ago, but now people screamed his name from the audience.
Hiroshi, the last in line, was called forward. The crowd erupted once again. He received more enthusiasm from the crowd than any of the others. It wasn’t even close. His station alone couldn’t explain this much excitement. Kenji stole a glance at Hiroshi, wondering what was so special about him.
After the initial frenzy, the crowd settled into chanting his name in unison.
“Hiroshi! Hiroshi! Hiroshi!”
Kenji’s eyes strained to see the emperor’s response to his brother’s welcome. The emperor was not participating. He was motionless, as far as Kenji could see.
On one side of the arena was a tall stand with canvas stretched over it. It was blank for now, but soon a bracket would fill it, telling the world who would be fighting who.
A gong strike interrupted the crowd’s chants, settling the anxious audience. The tournament official that introduced the champions stepped to the center of the stage. He addressed the crowd, arms spread wide.
The man moved with grace and presence. The other tournament workers kept their heads down and shoulders rolled forward, busy with their tasks. He, however, took smooth, confident steps and held himself with pride.
Kenji couldn’t be sure, but he guessed that the man had some skill with a sword. In a way, that comforted Kenji. It felt right to have a swordsman oversee the fighting instead of some stuffy politician.
“I, Manzo, am the keeper of the Tenno Tournament. I will ensure that this tournament is fair. I swear to the empire that the best warrior will claim the Zettai.” His voice rang as clear as the emperor’s.
He continued, “Following the centuries-old tradition, the six great regions will compete for three days. Three victors will then complete in a free-for-all to decide who will wield the Zettai.”
Manzo was handed a polished silver box, displaying it for all to see.
“Inside this box are the names of all our champions. I will select one at random to determine the upcoming matches.”
The crowd grew silent enough for Kenji to feel his heartbeat.
Who would he face?
The announcer slid his hand into the box and pulled a thin piece of wood out. He read it carefully, then held it in the air.
“The first fighter, Kenji of Gawa!”
“Shit.” He whispered the word under his breath, but he could have screamed it. No one would have heard.
The crowd roared for a moment and Kenji felt his legs grow weak. He would be fighting today, that much was sure. Kenji stiffened his posture and tightened his brow. He couldn’t look weak to the other champions.
A different official took a paint brush and slashed black paint over canvas. He skillfully created the two symbols that made Kenji’s name. Kenji never saw his name so large before, on display for the world.
The announcer set Kenji’s name to the side and reached into the box once again. He read it and held it to the sky. Kenji held his breath. This would be the person he fought.
“Yutaka of South Toku!”
The official with the brush put his whole body into creating the symbols for Yutaka. It was a performance all on its own. Once Yutaka’s name was complete, the official grabbed a second brush. In one swoop, he made a thick crimson line from Kenji’s name to Yutaka’s.
Yutaka took a confident step forward and raised his hands to the crowd. He carried himself with an ease that Kenji barely understood. Yutaka’s calm unnerved Kenji further. After waving to the crowd, he turned to Kenji and nodded.
The rest of the matches were a blur. Shiro would face Hiroshi on the second day, and Kami would face Matsu on the third. Kenji wondered how Kami would fare against a giant like Matsu. He felt a bit of concern trickle into his psyche for the girl, but he pushed it down.
Once all the champions were paired, they were escorted off of the stage and brought back to staging area. Kenji was told he had ten minutes to warm up, and that was all.
He took a moment to clear his mind. Around him, he could feel the eyes of the other champions studying him. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. This was it. This is what he’d been training for.
This was how he would live up to his father’s legacy.
Kenji broke his meditation and went through a few warmup movements that Ebusu taught him. He didn’t want to draw his sword or perform any cuts in front of the other champions. They were watching him with a razor-sharp focus.
He noticed Kami come up behind him in the same casual way she’d approached him before. He was curious about the girl, but now was not the time.
“He likes to go for the legs. Keep your guard low,” she whispered.
Kenji continued his warmup and didn’t look back.
“How do you know that?”
“I’m from North Toku, he’s from South Toku. We’ve trained together before.”
Kenji turned towards her, confused. “Why do you want me to beat him, then?”
Her expression went serious for the first time. She studied Kenji with dark, careful eyes.
“You’re a good person, Kenji of Gawa. I’ve felt it since we met. You’re a rare breed, especially where I come from.” Kami took a breath and took her eyes off of Kenji. ”The world needs more people like you. I won’t see you bested by someone like Yutaka.”
Kenji was at a loss for words. How could she possibly know his character? They didn’t even know each other. Kami’s expression gripped Kenji. She meant every word she said, but he didn’t know if he should thank her or question her.
“Kenji and Yutaka, to the center!”
Kenji cast a slow look at Kami and approached the gate. It swung open before him. The arena floor was completely empty now. The board with the pairings was gone and the officials were nowhere to be seen.
The full force of the crowd’s energy struck him. He walked out before Yutaka, alone in the arena for a moment. He looked around in a full circle, and all
around him were eager faces. The emperor was watching, too, from the balcony with his son.
Kenji searched the section with the champion’s parties, desperate to catch a glance of Ebusu before the fight started. Finally, among the nameless faces, he spotted Ebusu and Sagura.
Ebusu was staring back at him, emotionless. Sagura smiled and gave a nod of encouragement, but all Kenji needed to know was that they were there.
Yutaka entered the ring and they each went to opposite sides. They were easily twenty paces apart from each other, but that didn’t stop Kenji from feeling threatened.
The emperor silenced the crowd.
“The first match of the Tenno Tournament begins now. Fight!”
A gong crashed and the match began. Before drawing his blade, Kenji gave a deep and sincere bow to his opponent. He heard a wave of laughter spread over the crowd. He could only assume that Yutaka did not match his bow.
Kenji drew his sword and held it up between him and Yutaka. Yutaka closed the gap between them first, leaving Kenji in his side and Yutaka in the center.
Kenji inched closer, the wall of the arena looming in the back of his mind. Yutaka had a balanced stance. They stood like mirrors of one another, both of them motionless. They were still waters, never betraying the chaos beneath the surface.
Yutaka attacked first.
He raised his sword high above his head and let out a guttural scream. For a single, terrifying instant, something felt off with this attack. His preparation was telegraphed, and it seemed too simple.
Kami’s words came to him, and he acted on them. He lowered his sword to capitalize on his fake. It looked like a surrender to the crowd.
Kenji was right. The cut swooped around the obvious target and slashed at his leg. Kenji threw his knee to his chest and the blade passed harmlessly under his foot.
Kami hadn’t been lying after all.
Kenji used his opening to slash at Yutaka’s head with a cut aimed perfectly at his neck. Yutaka lurched backwards, swinging the back of his blade up like a club. It was just enough to redirect Kenji’s cut and keep his head on his shoulders.
Kenji planted his front foot, finishing the cut. As Yutaka finished his block, Kenji dashed to the side, escaping from the deadly corner he was trapped in. He took the opportunity to create some space and clear his mind.
Both of those attacks would have killed or maimed them. Kenji was in shock. If his cut had landed, they would be gathering Yutaka’s head right now. He felt a new fear creep inside his heart.
Kill or be killed. The formality and the honor of the tournament vanished in an instant.
Kenji could see the frustration in Yutaka’s demeanor. His shoulders were rolled forward and his brow furrowed. He took hard breaths through bared teeth, sending stands of saliva to the ground. He must have planned on Kenji being an easy win.
Yutaka leaped forward. He slashed his sword across Kenji’s torso. The speed of Yutaka’s attack surprised him, but he stepped back and avoided the tip of Yutaka’s blade by a hair. He felt the gentle breeze tickle his skin and realized that his robe was cut open.
Before Kenji could attack, Yutaka exploded with a flurry of cuts. Each slash was more powerful than the last, but Kenji was nimble. He dodged and deflected every one. The crowd surrounding them screamed so loudly that Kenji could barely feel the vibrations from the impacts on his own sword.
Yutaka swung low again, and Kenji jumped over the blade. He landed off balance, and Yutaka followed the cut through in a massive circle. Kenji watched, frustrated, as Yutaka exposed his back while he was unable to attack.
Yutaka completed the circle and leaned in to Kenji. Yutaka’s elbow smashed into Kenji’s forehead, sending Kenji into a backwards tumble.
He tried to roll to his feet, but his body felt sluggish, and his mind was blurry. He could feel the crowd cheering through the vibrations of the arena, but he could only hear ringing. He scrambled to his hands and knees and fought to stand.
Everything felt clumsy. His sword felt unfamiliar, and the ground seemed to toss like waves on the ocean. Yutaka’s elbow had struck true.
Yutaka faded in and out of view. He was pumping his fist into the air, screaming to the crowd. Then Yutaka turned his attention back to Kenji.
Clarity was coming back to Kenji, but not fast enough. If Yutaka reached him before he could stand, Kenji’s head would be rolling around the stage. But there was one thing that Yutaka didn’t expect.
Kenji crouched and put his weight on the balls of his feet. He was still dizzy, but he was out of time.
He strained every muscle in his legs and burst into a sprint towards Yutaka. He was only four or five steps away, but he could see the surprise light up in Yutaka’s eyes.
In a wild swing, Kenji’s sword smashed into Yutaka’s, clearing his guard. Kenji lowered his shoulder and tackled Yutaka with all of his strength. Kenji felt Yutaka’s lungs deflate and the air rush from his body. The man folded over Kenji’s shoulder and they fell together.
Both of their swords clattered to the ground and both champions landed in a heap on the hard stone surface. Kenji rolled off of Yutaka, his senses finally clear. Yutaka gasped for breath, clawing at his nearby sword.
Kenji stumbled towards his blade and scooped it off the ground. Yutaka reached his blade as well, but he only had one hand on it. The other hand was wrapped around his chest. If Kenji had to guess, he’d say he had broken some of Yutaka’s ribs.
They leveled their swords at each other, and Yutaka peeled his hand from his chest. His face contorted with pain, and Kenji could see him wince with every little move, but he straightened his posture.
Then, Yutaka offered a shallow, painful bow.
Kenji had earned his respect.
Kenji returned the bow and the crowd hushed. For the first time since the match started, Kenji could hear his own breath.
The two champions approached each other, their guards never wavering. Yutaka carried himself with more restraint now. He was harder for Kenji to read.
Kenji led with a simple but powerful cut to the top of Yutaka’s head. It was a perfect attack, but Yutaka parried it easily. The clash of steel filled the arena, and both warriors returned to stillness.
Yutaka responded with a diagonal cut to Kenji’s chest. Kenji met it directly with his blade. Both warriors pressed their blades towards the other. They were locked together, face to face. Their limbs shook with exertion as they fought for dominance.
Kenji put the palm of his hand on the back of his sword. It was dangerous, but Kenji needed to win this exchange. One wrong move and Kenji would lose his hand.
He pushed with all his strength, and he felt Yutaka give up a little ground. His breath rolled over Kenji’s face as Yutaka let out a quiet, desperate groan.
“You’ll have to kill me,” Yutaka growled.
He rolled back, letting Kenji complete his cut. Kenji was thrown off balance by the amount of force he was directing at Yutaka.
Yutaka got to his feet but seemed unable to straighten himself. His back was rounded, and he strained to lift his head to look at Kenji.
Yutaka let out a weak cough, and a few thick strands of blood fell from his mouth. He spat them from his lips, shaking his head, disgusted.
Kenji watched. He held a breath back and waited. Would the officials end it here? Ebusu had told him that once a rib pierced a lung, the end was near.
It started like a growl. Then a soft hiss came from Yutaka’s lips. It grew louder, and Yutaka began to shake. His voice faltered, but returned as a piercing, sickly scream. Yutaka’s torso jerked upright and the scream ended.
Yutaka could seek medical attention and live, or he could fight and die. It was clear which path Yutaka chose. A small part of Kenji, the part that wasn’t fighting for his life, respected that.
Yutaka lunged at him with a wild cut. Kenji sidestepped the first, but Yutaka followed with a second. Yutaka was committing his entire body to every cut. He was extending as far as possible to reach t
he ever-elusive Kenji.
Yutaka didn’t let up. He threw a series of reckless slashes at Kenji, but although some came close, Kenji was in control now. Whether it was pain or desperation, Kenji couldn’t tell, but Yutaka was losing his technique.
Kenji saw an opening. He took it.
Yutaka threw a cut towards Kenji’s shoulder. Kenji was ready for it and sidestepped into Yutaka’s guard. Without thought or concern, Kenji cut down through Yutaka’s dominant arm.
The feeling of an unyielding blade cutting through flesh was new to Kenji. In that moment, he was an extension of his blade. He felt everything. He felt the steel breaking Yutaka’s skin, just above the elbow. He felt the sword moving through muscle like a fish through water.
Kenji felt the resistance when his blade met bone, but he pushed through and completed the cut.
With a dull, wet thud, Yutaka’s arm fell to the ground and his sword shortly after. Yutaka didn’t scream. He held his posture as the color left his face, and terror filled his eyes.
Terror also consumed Kenji. His eyes widened as he looked down on the twitching, dismembered limb. Blood was pouring out of it like it was a torn flask.
Yutaka started to fall, but Kenji caught him, holding him up. Yutaka leaned into him, and warm, thick blood poured down the front of Kenji’s robes. It seemed endless, flowing from the lump of flesh that was left of Yutaka’s arm.
Kenji’s body trembled, and his stomach tightened like he was about to vomit. Why wasn’t anyone coming to help Yutaka? The fight was over.
Kenji held Yutaka close to him, not letting him fall. They stayed there for a few moments, but it felt longer. Finally, a few officials came out with a stretcher and pulled Yutaka away.
Once Yutaka was off the stage, Manzo gripped Kenji’s hand and lifted it above his head. Kenji didn’t respond or look up, he simply stared at the dismembered arm at his feet.
“The winner, Kenji of Gawa!”