As the sun dipped below the horizon and the last hints of twilight gave way to a sky lit by a thousand stars, Omeka sat quietly beside the ancient temple in Khamarasca. The sacred place, filled with the scent of incense and the low hum of wind chimes, was meant to give peace. But his mind was far from calm. He stared down at his small hands, clenched and resting on his knees, feeling the subtle throb of the Blue Draconic Flower pulsing within his chest. The master's words echoed again and again in his thoughts. This flower... this gift... this curse. If it was truly so powerful, so divine, then why had it vanished from the world? Why had no one used it before to change everything?
"If the Soryuka is the flower of gods," Omeka thought to himself, watching a lone petal drift across the floor tiles, "then where was it all this time? In the middle of all the chaos, wars, and suffering... why didn't this flower show up then?"
Frustration began to creep in like a slow shadow. He felt so small-just a boy, carrying a burden far beyond his years. Doubt was crawling into his heart. What if the power was too much? What if it consumed him like fire devouring dry leaves?
"Maybe it's not about answers," he muttered. "Maybe... it's about surviving."
He looked up at the temple bell, which had not rung in years. His eyes reflected its silence. He let out a heavy sigh. Thinking about the flower's mysteries felt endless. It would be a waste of time trying to figure out something he barely understood yet.
Just as he shifted to stand, he felt a soft hand rest gently on his shoulder. His body stiffened. The flower's instincts inside him surged for a second-an inner light almost rising from his skin-but it stopped. He looked up.
It was Hana.
She stood in the glow of the moonlight, her presence almost glowing with a warmth that challenged the flower's cold logic. She wore a calm expression, her long hair tied back with a single ribbon. The gentle aura around her hinted at healing. Her flower.
"What are you doing here, Omeka?" she asked softly, tilting her head with a half-smile.
He turned back toward the temple, not answering at first. Then he exhaled, eyes fixed ahead.
"Just... thinking about it. The flower. Why it chose me. Why it didn't show up when the world needed it most."
Hana sat beside him without a word. For a while, the two just sat in silence, the night wind brushing past them. Then she said, "I think... the flower didn't choose you to fix the past. It chose you because it trusts you with the future."
Omeka blinked, slowly turning to look at her. "But why me? I'm just a boy. I don't even understand what this thing inside me wants. It speaks in riddles. Dreams. Visions."
"Maybe that's exactly why," Hana said, her voice thoughtful. "Because you still listen. You still feel. Flowers don't grow where the soil is dead, Omeka. They bloom where there's life-even if it's struggling."
Her words hit something deep in him. He looked away, but there was a glimmer of something new in his eyes-clarity, maybe. Or just hope.
"You talk like you've known flowers longer than I have," he said, half-teasing.
She chuckled. "I have. My healing flower doesn't roar or blaze, but it listens.
---
They sat together for quite some time, the quiet of the temple grounds wrapping around them like a gentle cloak. Hana finally broke the silence with a soft but firm voice. "Omeka, you need to stop thinking so much about that flower. It's not meant for just anyone. That flower belongs to the most god-level samurai-only they have the right to wield its power. Dwelling on it will only distract you."
But Omeka's gaze remained steady on the horizon, his heart stubbornly refusing to let go. "Maybe," he replied quietly, "but I still think I have to find it someday. No matter what the master says, I can't just ignore it."
Hana sighed but didn't argue further. The night deepened, and exhaustion finally crept in. They returned to their rooms, and sleep claimed them both, though Omeka's mind was restless beneath his closed eyelids.
Hours later, a dry thirst pulled Omeka from his sleep. Quietly, so as not to disturb anyone, he slipped from his room and made his way to the master's door. Carefully opening it, he stepped outside into the cool night air and headed toward the pond to drink.
As he leaned down to scoop water into his hands, a soft, pearl-like glow caught his eye from behind the flowers lining the pond's edge. He blinked, and through the shimmering petals, he saw a figure standing silently-a ninja or maybe a samurai, cloaked in shadow, watching him. The flower behind which the figure stood pulsed gently with a mysterious light.
His breath caught, but just as he started to approach, a warning flickered in his memory-the master's words about fear and respect for the powers beyond. He froze, heart pounding, then quickly bent to drink the water.
Just as he turned to leave, the figure's voice broke the silence. "Do not be afraid," it said calmly, "There is no need for fear. The body may perish, but the soul remains here."
Omeka's blood chilled. Without another word, he hurried back to his room, shutting the door softly behind him. He lay down, his heart still racing, but chose not to tell anyone what he had seen. Only Hana seemed to notice something was off.
The next morning, Hana confronted him, her eyes sharp and knowing. "You saw something last night. I saw it too."
Omeka's expression hardened. "You better keep your mouth shut about it," he snapped, the weight of the secret pressing heavily on him. Hana's gaze didn't waver, but she nodded silently, understanding the gravity of what had unfolded.
---
---
The next morning, the temple was bathed in soft sunlight filtering through the tall trees, but Omeka felt a shadow linger over him. Hana sat beside him during the morning training, her eyes sharp and curious, yet careful.
"You can't hide it from me, Omeka," she said quietly after practice, her voice low but steady. "Whatever happened last night... it's changed something. I saw the same light behind the flowers, the same figure."
Omeka's jaw tightened. "It was nothing. Just a trick of the light. You don't know what you're talking about."
Hana's gaze didn't waver. "Don't lie to me. I know you're afraid. I am too. But hiding won't make it go away."
He looked away, conflicted but unwilling to admit the truth. "That figure... it said something about the soul. About fear. I don't understand it. Why would a ghost or spirit say that? Am I losing my mind?"
Hana reached out, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. "Maybe it's a warning. Or maybe it's a test. The master said the flower belongs to god-level samurai. Maybe this is a sign that you're closer to something bigger than you realize."
Omeka swallowed hard. "But what if I'm not ready? What if this power is too much for me?"
Hana smiled softly, her eyes shining with fierce confidence. "Then we get ready. Together. You don't have to face it alone."
Her words struck a chord deep within him. For the first time since that night, Omeka felt a flicker of hope amidst the uncertainty. Whatever the future held, he wasn't just a boy chasing legends - he was someone with a purpose, and Hana was there by his side.
The two of them stood up, the weight of the secret now shared binding them closer. Omeka looked once more toward the temple's shadowed edge, where the mysterious flower and the silent figure had appeared. He didn't know what lay ahead - but he knew this was only the beginning.
---
After their intense conversation, the atmosphere in the temple grew heavy with seriousness. The master called Omeka and Hana to the main hall, his eyes sharp and unwavering. His voice was low but firm as he addressed them both.
"There is a beast troubling the village," he began. "A creature known as the Yama Shishi - the Mountain Lion. It has been disturbing the peace of the villagers, striking fear deep into their hearts. This is no ordinary beast. Even the gods themselves require time and great power to bring it down."
Omeka felt a chill run down his spine. The legend of the Yama Shishi was well known - a fearsome, almost mythical creature said to guard the mountain with deadly strength. Yet here they were, young students tasked with a mission so perilous that even divine warriors hesitated.
The master continued, "I am assigning this mission to you. You must ascend the mountain, find the Yama Shishi, and put an end to its terror. This will not be an easy task. It will demand all of your courage, skill, and wisdom."
Hana exchanged a determined look with Omeka, her eyes shining with resolve despite the gravity of the challenge. Omeka nodded silently, feeling the weight of responsibility settle firmly on his shoulders. The mission was not only a test of their abilities - it was a trial of their very spirits.
The master's voice softened but carried a grave warning. "The path ahead is treacherous. Trust each other, stay vigilant, and remember - the fate of the village rests with you."
With that, Omeka and Hana prepared to embark on their journey toward the mountain, the looming silhouette of the Yama Shishi waiting for them beyond the peak. Whatever awaited them, their adventure was just beginning.
---
---
Omeka felt a chill run down his spine. The legend of the Yama Shishi was well known - a fearsome, almost mythical creature said to guard the mountain with deadly strength. Yet here they were, young students tasked with a mission so perilous that even divine warriors hesitated.
The master continued, "I am assigning this mission to you. You must ascend the mountain, find the Yama Shishi, and put an end to its terror. This will not be an easy task. It will demand all of your courage, skill, and wisdom."
Hana exchanged a determined look with Omeka, her eyes shining with resolve despite the gravity of the challenge. Omeka nodded silently, feeling the weight of responsibility settle firmly on his shoulders. The mission was not only a test of their abilities - it was a trial of their very spirits.
The master's voice softened but carried a grave warning. "The path ahead is treacherous. Trust each other, stay vigilant, and remember - the fate of the village rests with you."
With that, Omeka and Hana prepared to embark on their journey toward the mountain, the looming silhouette of the Yama Shishi waiting for them beyond the peak. Whatever awaited them, their adventure was just beginning.
---
---
Omeka shifted uneasily as he looked toward the mountain's shadow, the towering silhouette of the peak still cloaked in mist and mystery. Hana sat beside him on the rough stone ledge, her eyes fixed firmly on the distant summit. "We can't just rush in blindly," she said quietly, voice steady despite the weight of their mission. "The master made it clear-this isn't some simple beast we can take down with brute force." Omeka nodded, his hands clenched tightly in his lap. "I keep thinking about what the master said-how even the gods need time to kill the Yama Shishi. That means we have to be smarter, more careful. If we charge in without a plan, we'll be no better than those villagers who live in fear." Hana's gaze softened for a moment as she studied him. "We'll need to use everything we've learned here-our training, our instincts, and maybe even some of that power you don't fully understand yet." Omeka looked away, remembering the strange encounter by the pond, the glowing flower, and the mysterious samurai's words about the soul and fear. "That night, I felt something shift inside me. It was like the flower, or maybe the mountain itself, was calling me. But what if I'm not ready? What if this power isn't meant for someone like me?" Hana smiled gently but firmly. "You're already stronger than you think, Omeka. You just don't see it yet. And you're not alone in this. We have to work together." "Right," Omeka said, the resolve creeping back into his voice. "So, how do we start? The Yama Shishi isn't just some animal. It's a legend, a force of nature. Maybe it has weaknesses we don't know." Hana tapped her chin thoughtfully. "From what the villagers say, it only appears at dusk and dawn. That means it might rest during the day or deep in the mountain. We should use that time to scout and find out where it lives." "We could try setting traps," Omeka suggested. "But traps won't stop something that powerful. The master said it needs time to be killed. We need patience." "Patience and strategy," Hana agreed. "Maybe we can observe its movements, learn its patterns. If we know when it hunts, where it hides, we can prepare an ambush." Omeka's eyes brightened with the flicker of a plan. "We'll need weapons that can pierce its thick fur and armor-like skin. I remember the master talking about special herbs and poisons in the forest that could weaken beasts." Hana nodded. "I know where some grow near the eastern ridge. If we gather them, we might have an advantage." "Good," Omeka said, standing and stretching his legs. "Also, we can't rely on weapons alone. If the Yama Shishi is what the master says, it might have some kind of spiritual or elemental power. We should prepare ourselves mentally." Hana looked serious. "You mean meditation, strengthening our focus? I've heard about ancient techniques that can calm your mind and sharpen your senses. We should try them before we leave." Omeka smiled at the thought. "You're always so prepared. I'll follow your lead." They spent the next hour discussing every detail they could think of-routes up the mountain, possible shelters, how to communicate silently, and how to stay alert against surprise attacks. "What if it's not alone?" Hana asked suddenly. "The master never mentioned if the Yama Shishi hunts by itself or if it has followers or minions." Omeka frowned. "That's true. We can't underestimate it. Maybe there are smaller beasts or spirits guarding it." Hana bit her lip. "Then our mission just got even more dangerous." "Dangerous, yes," Omeka said, "but not impossible. We've trained for this. The master wouldn't send us if he didn't believe in us." "Still," Hana added, "we have to be ready for anything. The mountain itself might be a test, with traps and hazards we don't expect." Omeka looked out toward the forest below. "We should gather supplies-food, healing herbs, and maybe some fire starters. If we get caught in bad weather or need to stay hidden, we'll need those." Hana agreed. "I'll check the supply room. Maybe there's something the master left for emergencies." They rose and began to prepare, their minds racing with possibilities and fears. As they packed, Omeka's thoughts returned to the glowing flower and the figure he saw at the pond. "Do you think the mountain is connected to that flower?" he asked quietly. Hana shrugged but didn't dismiss the idea. "Maybe. The master's teachings always hinted at the connection between nature, power, and the soul. That flower might be a symbol or even a source of power we don't understand yet." "I wish I could ask the master more," Omeka said. "But he's been distant lately, as if he knows something we don't." Hana's eyes narrowed. "Maybe he does. Maybe this mission is his way of preparing us for something bigger." Omeka nodded slowly. "Whatever happens, we have to watch each other's backs." "Always," Hana replied, her voice soft but unwavering. The night grew deeper, and the temple settled into quiet, but their minds remained alert. Before they parted for rest, Omeka turned to Hana one last time. "Promise me we'll face this together. No matter what the Yama Shishi is, or what we find up there." Hana smiled, the flicker of moonlight catching her eyes. "I promise. Together, we're stronger than any beast." With that, they separated to their rooms, the weight of the upcoming battle settling over them like a storm on the horizon. Neither of them slept easily, their dreams haunted by visions of shadows and glowing eyes watching from the dark mountain. When dawn finally broke, they met again outside, the first light painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. They checked their gear once more, testing their weapons, and tightening their cloaks against the chill morning air. "Ready?" Hana asked. Omeka nodded, gripping the hilt of his sword. "Ready." Step by step, they began the climb toward the summit where the Yama Shishi waited-a beast of legend, fear, and power. As they ascended, the forest grew thicker, the air colder, and the silence heavier. Every crackle of leaves underfoot made them pause. Their eyes scanned the shadows, alert for any sign of the mountain's guardian. Hana whispered, "Stay close. Watch the winds. The mountain speaks if you listen." Omeka breathed deeply, centering himself. The journey ahead was uncertain, but with Hana by his side, he felt a flicker of courage ignite. Whatever waited at the top, they would face it together.
---
---
The wind howled fiercely as Omeka and Hana finally reached the jagged clearing atop the mountain, the heart of the Yama Shishi's domain. The shadows cast by twisted ancient trees seemed to twist and crawl with the ominous presence of the beast itself. Their breaths came out in visible puffs, hearts pounding in their chests as the massive silhouette emerged from the mist. The Yama Shishi stood tall-a towering creature with sleek black fur that shimmered like ink, eyes glowing a fierce crimson, and claws sharp as blades that gouged the earth with every movement. The beast let out a guttural roar that echoed through the valley, shaking loose stones from the mountain's face. Omeka's grip tightened on his sword, Hana poised beside him, bow at the ready. The fight was on.
With a sudden burst, the Yama Shishi lunged forward, its speed deceptive for its size. Hana fired arrow after arrow, each one bouncing off the beast's thick hide as if it were armor. Omeka met its charge with swift sword strikes, slashing through the air, trying to find an opening. The beast's claws swiped at them, narrowly missing Omeka's side, drawing a thin line of blood. Hana rolled out of the way as the beast's tail smashed the ground where she had just been moments before. They fought with everything they had, their synchronized moves born from months of training, but the Yama Shishi's power was overwhelming. Every strike they landed was met with retaliation twice as fierce.
"It's too strong," Hana gasped, ducking under a vicious swipe. "We can't keep this up much longer." Omeka's breath was ragged, sweat streaming down his face as he dodged another claw swipe. "There has to be a way to stop it!" he yelled, desperation creeping into his voice. The beast snarled and charged again, knocking Hana off her feet with a thunderous blow. Omeka barely dodged a fatal strike as the beast turned its gaze fully on him. Time seemed to slow; the mountain air thickened with tension. Just as the Yama Shishi raised its claw to strike a crushing blow, a sudden shadow flickered behind the beast.
From the mist stepped a figure clad entirely in black armor that absorbed the moonlight, a samurai whose presence was as silent as it was terrifying. Pearl-like flowers shimmered faintly along the edge of his armor, glowing softly with an ethereal light that danced like stars. The samurai moved with a grace that defied his armor's bulk, his sword drawn in a smooth arc that gleamed cold and deadly. In a single fluid motion, he stepped between Omeka and the beast, and without a word, plunged his sword deep beneath the Yama Shishi's ribcage. The beast let out a bloodcurdling roar, staggering back, its strength draining as the samurai's blade glowed with an otherworldly light. With a final, shuddering breath, the Yama Shishi collapsed to the ground, its eyes dimming as it fell into stillness.
Omeka and Hana stood frozen, staring wide-eyed as the samurai slowly withdrew his sword and turned toward the shadows. Without a word, the mysterious figure dissolved into the mist, disappearing as suddenly as he had appeared, leaving behind only the faint scent of cherry blossoms and the quiet echo of his presence. Silence fell over the mountain, broken only by the labored breaths of the two young warriors. Omeka stepped cautiously toward the fallen beast, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch the lifeless fur. The moment his fingers brushed the cold hide, a deep voice rumbled in his mind, clear and commanding: "Master..."
Omeka staggered back, eyes wide with shock. The power that surged through him was unlike anything he had ever felt. The beast's legendary strength and fearsome spirit had not been destroyed-it had been bound to him, controlled by a force he barely understood. Hana's voice broke the silence. "Omeka, what's happening? What did it say?" Omeka swallowed hard, feeling the energy pulse beneath his skin. "It... it called me master. The beast... it's under my control now." "But how?" Hana asked, her brow furrowed with concern. "That's impossible. We didn't take its body or soul, right?" Omeka shook his head. "No, the body lies here, lifeless. But the master told me once-the power of this mountain, the flower, it's about the soul. We can't take the body, but I can capture the soul. I can hold it inside me, keep its power for when I need it."
Hana stared at him, eyes wide but slowly filling with awe. "You mean you can trap its soul inside you? Use its power when the moment calls for it?" Omeka nodded, feeling the weight of his new responsibility. "Yes. I can't use the power all the time-it's too much-but I can pull it out in battle, strengthen myself. It's like having a weapon inside me." He closed his eyes, focusing inward, and for a brief moment, his appearance shimmered, his form glowing with an aura of strength and confidence far beyond his usual self. The power was intoxicating, but it came with a price-he could only summon it when needed, and the soul he held was not his own. "This power... I have to control it," Omeka whispered. "If I lose control, it could consume me." Hana stepped closer, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. "You're not alone in this, Omeka. We'll learn together how to master it." The journey back was quiet but filled with unspoken determination. As they descended the mountain, the tension between the night's victory and the burden of newfound power settled heavily on both of them.
Finally, as the temple's gates appeared in the distance, Omeka broke the silence. "Hana, where were you all these years? When I needed someone... I never saw you." Hana paused, her gaze distant. "I was searching for my own path. I had to find strength inside myself before I could stand beside you." Omeka's eyes softened. "I understand now. We're both fighting battles-inside and out." Hana smiled faintly. "And now, we fight them together."
They walked slowly now, as if the weight of their silence made even the air denser. Omeka felt the heat of a thousand memories stirring in his chest-flickers of Hana beside him in the old days, training under the sun, running through mountain trails, dreaming of becoming something more than just fighters. But her absence had changed something in him. Hardened him. And now that she was back, that fragile dam of held-back questions was cracking.
He turned his head just slightly, just enough to see her walking beside him, her figure calm, composed... but her eyes distant.
"Hana," he said again, quieter this time. "I'm not angry. I just... I don't understand."
She didn't speak for a while. They walked several steps in silence, the gravel crunching beneath their feet like whispers.
Then she said, "The day I left... I cried for hours."
Omeka blinked. That wasn't what he expected.
"I thought I was ready for everything," Hana continued, her voice steady but soft. "But then my powers started changing. I didn't tell anyone, not even Master. There were nights I would wake up and see things-visions, images of places I had never been, people I had never met. I thought I was losing my mind."
She paused, brushing a low branch out of her path.
"And one night," she said, "I saw a version of myself... burning."
Omeka stopped walking. "What do you mean?"
"I mean... I saw a future. A vision, I think. Of me. On fire. Not literally. But everything I was-my identity, my heart-it was collapsing. I was lost. And I knew then, if I stayed here, I'd burn out before I ever became someone worthy of standing beside you."
He turned to her slowly, eyes wide.
"I didn't leave because I didn't care," she whispered. "I left because I cared too much. Because I couldn't bear the idea of becoming weak and dragging you down. I went to the far west-to the old ruins of the Ise Shrine. I trained with those who speak to spirits. I spent two years in silence. Learning. Listening. Fighting my own demons."
Omeka looked away. The pain in her voice struck something raw inside him. "You should've told me."
"I couldn't," she said. "The Hana you knew would've begged you to come with her. And then we both would've drowned."
He nodded slowly, trying to absorb it all.
She stepped closer. "I watched your battles. From afar. I heard the stories. The boy who defied Group D's rules. Who protected villagers even when his blade was dull and his arms were weak. You grew stronger every day... and I thought-good. He's becoming who he was meant to be."
"But without you," Omeka whispered.
She gave a faint smile. "Maybe that was part of the journey too."
Omeka clenched his fists. "You were always the part of me that knew when to speak. When to shoot. When to stop me from rushing in. Do you know how lost I felt when you weren't there? I kept hearing your voice in my head. Telling me what to do. Telling me to breathe."
Hana looked at him, her eyes wet but proud. "Then maybe I was never truly gone."
The path turned slightly, revealing the first lights of the village in the distance. But neither of them moved.
"I have something now," Omeka said, touching his chest. "Something ancient. Something powerful. That beast's soul... it called me master."
"I saw it," Hana said softly. "I saw your eyes. You're not just stronger now. You're something else entirely."
Omeka looked at her. "Does that scare you?"
"No," she replied. "But it scares me-what I'll have to become to walk beside that kind of power. I came back, Omeka, because I saw the world changing. I saw your name whispered by trees, by wind, by fire. You're at the center of something massive. And I want to help you carry it. But I won't pretend I'm not afraid."
"Good," he said with a soft smile. "I'm terrified."
They both chuckled quietly-two souls in armor, broken and pieced together by time, now walking into the unknown side by side.
Then Omeka's face grew serious. "If I lose control... If this soul inside me-if it breaks out, if I become something I'm not..."
"I'll be there," Hana said without hesitation. "To stop you. Or save you."
Omeka looked into her eyes, finding the same fire he once knew-matured, tested, and returned with purpose.
"I'm not going to let you leave again," he said.
"I'm not going anywhere," she promised.
The wind rustled through the trees behind them as if sealing their words in ancient oath.
And side by side, under the moonlight, they walked forward-two threads woven by fate, now pulling toward the next storm.
---
---
They walked slowly now, as if the weight of their silence made even the air denser. Omeka felt the heat of a thousand memories stirring in his chest-flickers of Hana beside him in the old days, training under the sun, running through mountain trails, dreaming of becoming something more than just fighters. But her absence had changed something in him. Hardened him. And now that she was back, that fragile dam of held-back questions was cracking.
He turned his head just slightly, just enough to see her walking beside him, her figure calm, composed... but her eyes distant.
"Hana," he said again, quieter this time. "I'm not angry. I just... I don't understand."
She didn't speak for a while. They walked several steps in silence, the gravel crunching beneath their feet like whispers.
Then she said, "The day I left... I cried for hours."
Omeka blinked. That wasn't what he expected.
"I thought I was ready for everything," Hana continued, her voice steady but soft. "But then my powers started changing. I didn't tell anyone, not even Master. There were nights I would wake up and see things-visions, images of places I had never been, people I had never met. I thought I was losing my mind."
She paused, brushing a low branch out of her path.
"And one night," she said, "I saw a version of myself... burning."
Omeka stopped walking. "What do you mean?"
"I mean... I saw a future. A vision, I think. Of me. On fire. Not literally. But everything I was-my identity, my heart-it was collapsing. I was lost. And I knew then, if I stayed here, I'd burn out before I ever became someone worthy of standing beside you."
He turned to her slowly, eyes wide.
"I didn't leave because I didn't care," she whispered. "I left because I cared too much. Because I couldn't bear the idea of becoming weak and dragging you down. I went to the far west-to the old ruins of the Ise Shrine. I trained with those who speak to spirits. I spent two years in silence. Learning. Listening. Fighting my own demons."
Omeka looked away. The pain in her voice struck something raw inside him. "You should've told me."
"I couldn't," she said. "The Hana you knew would've begged you to come with her. And then we both would've drowned."
He nodded slowly, trying to absorb it all.
She stepped closer. "I watched your battles. From afar. I heard the stories. The boy who defied Group D's rules. Who protected villagers even when his blade was dull and his arms were weak. You grew stronger every day... and I thought-good. He's becoming who he was meant to be."
"But without you," Omeka whispered.
She gave a faint smile. "Maybe that was part of the journey too."
Omeka clenched his fists. "You were always the part of me that knew when to speak. When to shoot. When to stop me from rushing in. Do you know how lost I felt when you weren't there? I kept hearing your voice in my head. Telling me what to do. Telling me to breathe."
Hana looked at him, her eyes wet but proud. "Then maybe I was never truly gone."
The path turned slightly, revealing the first lights of the village in the distance. But neither of them moved.
"I have something now," Omeka said, touching his chest. "Something ancient. Something powerful. That beast's soul... it called me master."
"I saw it," Hana said softly. "I saw your eyes. You're not just stronger now. You're something else entirely."
Omeka looked at her. "Does that scare you?"
"No," she replied. "But it scares me-what I'll have to become to walk beside that kind of power. I came back, Omeka, because I saw the world changing. I saw your name whispered by trees, by wind, by fire. You're at the center of something massive. And I want to help you carry it. But I won't pretend I'm not afraid."
"Good," he said with a soft smile. "I'm terrified."
They both chuckled quietly-two souls in armor, broken and pieced together by time, now walking into the unknown side by side.
Then Omeka's face grew serious. "If I lose control... If this soul inside me-if it breaks out, if I become something I'm not..."
"I'll be there," Hana said without hesitation. "To stop you. Or save you."
Omeka looked into her eyes, finding the same fire he once knew-matured, tested, and returned with purpose.
"I'm not going to let you leave again," he said.
"I'm not going anywhere," she promised.
The wind rustled through the trees behind them as if sealing their words in ancient oath.
And side by side, under the moonlight, they walked forward-two threads woven by fate, now pulling toward the next storm.
--
---
Omeka turned to Hana, his voice quieter than the wind but heavier than a mountain.
"You know Group D... don't you? The one that disappeared from all scrolls, all books... erased. You knew it before I even mentioned it."
Hana's breath caught. For the first time since the battle, she looked afraid.
"...My father used to work for them," Omeka continued, stepping closer. "He was loyal. Until one day, he vanished. I was just a baby. No one believes me now. They say I'm lying. They say Group D never existed. But you know the truth. Don't you, Hana?"
She didn't answer right away. Her fists clenched. Her shoulders stiffened. Then, finally...
"...Group D was never meant to exist," she whispered. "They weren't protectors. They weren't villains. They were the balance-between divine bloom and total decay."
---
---
The path ahead was silent, the wind brushing past the trees like whispers of old spirits. The leaves trembled not from the breeze-but from the storm brewing between the two souls walking beneath them.
Hana glanced sideways. "Why are you suddenly asking me about Group D?"
Omeka's steps slowed. His voice, when it came, felt like thunder muffled by grief.
"Because the group you mentioned... they killed my father."
Hana froze mid-step.
Omeka kept walking. "He knew about Group D. Not because he was part of it. But because someone told him the truth. The truth that Group D wasn't just a faction-it was the spine of something darker. It was hidden by Group A. All the corrupted samurai helped bury it. Even Hashiranga... he doesn't know yet."
He stopped and looked up at the moon, its light cutting across his sharp eyes.
"But he will."
Hana's voice was quieter now. Shaken. "Omeka... your father died because of what he knew?"
"No," Omeka said, his fists clenched. "He was executed for what he refused to stay silent about. They said it was an accident. A beast. But I found the blade. A samurai blade. Group A marked."
Hana looked down, guilt written across her face.
Omeka turned to her, his voice heavy with fire.
"And you... Hana... you and I... we're walking the same road. You were tortured by them. I was born in the ashes they left. You are water."
He placed his hand against his chest.
"And I... I am fire."
A single tear escaped Hana's eye, catching the moonlight like a falling star.
"Then let the water flow beside the flames," she said. "And drown the lies in justice."
Omeka stepped forward.
"No more secrets."
"No more chains."
"No more pretending Group D never existed."
He looked out toward the horizon, the base still far away-but their fate drawing closer.
"They will face judgment, Hana. From you. From me. And from the souls we carry."
--
---
as the moonlight painted silver over the path, omeka muttered under his breath, "i hate samurais... those guys are corrupted."
before hana could respond, the wind howled-and a black figure emerged in front of them, tall, cloaked, radiating something... unreal.
"hey," the figure said, his voice like ancient thunder softened by time, "you kids are the gods of the future."
omeka and hana both stepped back, their hands nearly moving to draw weapons, but something in the figure's presence froze them-not in fear, but in awe.
"i was a samurai once. from group e," the figure said calmly.
"do you know about group e?"
omeka narrowed his eyes. "everyone talks about a, b, c, sometimes d... but e? that's not even in the records."
the figure smiled bitterly. "of course not. because i founded it. and i was killed by the very ones i once fought beside."
hana's eyes widened. "but how are you... alive?"
"i'm not," said the samurai. "you see me because you both carry divine power within you. this girl-hana-has the ancient flower of healing. and you, omeka..." he paused, his gaze sharpening, "you are 30% of ashiranga himself. that's not coincidence. that's destiny."
omeka's throat tightened. he couldn't speak.
the samurai continued, his voice firm, sad, and righteous.
"you called all samurai corrupted-but we weren't always. there was a time... when group e brought peace to nations. to planets. we were the guardians of life and balance. but when group a changed leaders..."
he looked away, as if remembering a nightmare.
"...everything changed. taxes from the poor. mass executions. women violated. justice shattered. and all the while, they wore masks of glory."
hana clenched her fists. her breathing grew heavy.
"i tried to stop them," the samurai said. "but they executed me for treason. and now, i'm only wind... trapped in this village... with a shard of my soul and a bit of power."
omeka whispered, "...what can we do?"
"you must stop the leader of group a. don't wait for ashiranga. he will judge at the end of time-but by then, the world will be gone. we have 10,000 years left before the cosmic core collapses. that seems like a long time... but trust me... it's already begun."
the trees rustled unnaturally, as if the very planet shivered at his words.
"and omeka..." the samurai turned directly to him now, "...i knew your father."
omeka's breath caught.
"he was the greatest warrior of group d-the guardians of the cosmic realm. he protected planets most people don't even believe exist. he wasn't just strong-he was righteous. i fought beside him when group e and group d stood united... before they divided us all."
omeka felt his chest burning-not with pain, but with a light that had long been buried inside him.
"but you said... only three or four groups existed," omeka asked.
the samurai nodded. "that's what group a wants you to think. but there are more. far more. there were once a thousand groups, each tied to a cosmic law. time. light. sound. emotions. gravity. they were kept secret-erased-by group a to control power."
hana whispered, "...we've been lied to our whole lives."
"you're not alone anymore," said the samurai. "i may only be a breeze... but i will guide you."
he stepped forward.
"you carry divine souls. you carry truth. and you carry a war that started long before you were born."
omeka stepped closer.
"tell me everything. don't stop. i want to know it all. i need to know what my father died for."
---
Omeka stood frozen, the weight of the samurai's words pounding in his chest like thunder. Hana, too, couldn't move. The black-clad figure before them shimmered faintly under the moonlight, a ghost tethered to a purpose even death hadn't shaken.
"Yes," the samurai continued, his voice a deep echo, layered with pain and pride. "I knew your father, Omeka. He was one of the greatest warriors of Group D - a protector of the cosmic world. Most people only know of Groups A, B, and C... some whisper of D, but the truth is - there are over a thousand groups. A thousand forces once aligned for balance, now scattered and forgotten."
Omeka blinked. "A thousand... groups? But Group A controls everything. Why would they hide this?"
The samurai's eyes glinted. "Control. Fear. Power. Group A, once noble, became the tyrant. When their leadership changed, they began rewriting history. They erased Groups they couldn't control. Group D... and my Group E... we opposed them. We believed in freedom, in unity. We wanted the samurai to protect, not oppress."
Hana clutched her chest. "Group E... You said you were its founder. But how? Why didn't anyone ever mention you in the temple archives?"
"Because Group A burned the archives," the samurai said bitterly. "They didn't just erase the records - they hunted us down. Massacred us. I was betrayed and executed. But even death couldn't silence me. My spirit lingers here to protect those who carry the divine spark. You two... are among them."
He looked at Omeka, his gaze piercing. "You, boy. You carry 30% of Hashiranga's divine power. You think your strength is coincidence? It's destiny. Your blood is not just that of a warrior. It is the thread that connects you to the original samurai who walked with the gods. Hashiranga was the judgment - the final seal. When he returns, he will weigh the sins of all samurai. But before that, the world will suffer. The corrupted will rise. And you... must rise against them."
Omeka clenched his fists. "My father... he died because he knew the truth about Group D. He tried to speak out, didn't he?"
The samurai nodded slowly. "Yes. And Group A silenced him."
"Then I'll burn them all," Omeka snarled. "I'll destroy Group A from the inside. They play gods - but they've forgotten what true divinity is."
Hana touched his shoulder, gently. "Omeka, rage won't bring your father back. But if we fight, we fight smart. We bring justice, not vengeance."
The samurai smiled. "She speaks the truth. Fire and water... your spirits clash, but together, you make steam - power that can move mountains."
He turned, his figure beginning to fade with the breeze. "Seek the lost Groups. Uncover the truth. And beware the corrupted leaders. Even Hashiranga doesn't see all - he sees what is offered to him. The truth lies beneath lies. Find the Blade of Roots. Only then can you challenge the throne of Group A."
"Wait!" Omeka called out. "Will we see you again?"
The samurai paused, barely a silhouette now. "Only when you are ready."
And with that, he was gone - just the night wind whispering through the trees.
Hana stood in silence for a moment before whispering, "Group E... Group D
Omeka stood frozen, the weight of the samurai's words pounding in his chest like thunder. Hana, too, couldn't move. The black-clad figure before them shimmered faintly under the moonlight, a ghost tethered to a purpose even death hadn't shaken.
"Yes," the samurai continued, his voice a deep echo, layered with pain and pride. "I knew your father, Omeka. He was one of the greatest warriors of Group D - a protector of the cosmic world. Most people only know of Groups A, B, and C... some whisper of D, but the truth is - there are over a thousand groups. A thousand forces once aligned for balance, now scattered and forgotten."
Omeka blinked. "A thousand... groups? But Group A controls everything. Why would they hide this?"
The samurai's eyes glinted. "Control. Fear. Power. Group A, once noble, became the tyrant. When their leadership changed, they began rewriting history. They erased Groups they couldn't control. Group D... and my Group E... we opposed them. We believed in freedom, in unity. We wanted the samurai to protect, not oppress."
Hana clutched her chest. "Group E... You said you were its founder. But how? Why didn't anyone ever mention you in the temple archives?"
"Because Group A burned the archives," the samurai said bitterly. "They didn't just erase the records - they hunted us down. Massacred us. I was betrayed and executed. But even death couldn't silence me. My spirit lingers here to protect those who carry the divine spark. You two... are among them."
He looked at Omeka, his gaze piercing. "You, boy. You carry 30% of Hashiranga's divine power. You think your strength is coincidence? It's destiny. Your blood is not just that of a warrior. It is the thread that connects you to the original samurai who walked with the gods. Hashiranga was the judgment - the final seal. When he returns, he will weigh the sins of all samurai. But before that, the world will suffer. The corrupted will rise. And you... must rise against them."
Omeka clenched his fists. "My father... he died because he knew the truth about Group D. He tried to speak out, didn't he?"
The samurai nodded slowly. "Yes. And Group A silenced him."
"Then I'll burn them all," Omeka snarled. "I'll destroy Group A from the inside. They play gods - but they've forgotten what true divinity is."
Hana touched his shoulder, gently. "Omeka, rage won't bring your father back. But if we fight, we fight smart. We bring justice, not vengeance."
The samurai smiled. "She speaks the truth. Fire and water... your spirits clash, but together, you make steam - power that can move mountains."
He turned, his figure beginning to fade with the breeze. "Seek the lost Groups. Uncover the truth. And beware the corrupted leaders. Even Hashiranga doesn't see all - he sees what is offered to him. The truth lies beneath lies. Find the Blade of Roots. Only then can you challenge the throne of Group A.Omeka stood frozen, the weight of the samurai's words pounding in his chest like thunder. Hana, too, couldn't move. The black-clad figure before them shimmered faintly under the moonlight, a ghost tethered to a purpose even death hadn't shaken.
"Yes," the samurai continued, his voice a deep echo, layered with pain and pride. "I knew your father, Omeka. He was one of the greatest warriors of Group D - a protector of the cosmic world. Most people only know of Groups A, B, and C... some whisper of D, but the truth is - there are over a thousand groups. A thousand forces once aligned for balance, now scattered and forgotten."
Omeka blinked. "A thousand... groups? But Group A controls everything. Why would they hide this?"
The samurai's eyes glinted. "Control. Fear. Power. Group A, once noble, became the tyrant. When their leadership changed, they began rewriting history. They erased Groups they couldn't control. Group D... and my Group E... we opposed them. We believed in freedom, in unity. We wanted the samurai to protect, not oppress."
Hana clutched her chest. "Group E... You said you were its founder. But how? Why didn't anyone ever mention you in the temple archives?"
"Because Group A burned the archives," the samurai said bitterly. "They didn't just erase the records - they hunted us down. Massacred us. I was betrayed and executed. But even death couldn't silence me. My spirit lingers here to protect those who carry the divine spark. You two... are among them."
He looked at Omeka, his gaze piercing. "You, boy. You carry 30% of Hashiranga's divine power. You think your strength is coincidence? It's destiny. Your blood is not just that of a warrior. It is the thread that connects you to the original samurai who walked with the gods. Hashiranga was the judgment - the final seal. When he returns, he will weigh the sins of all samurai. But before that, the world will suffer. The corrupted will rise. And you... must rise against them."
Omeka clenched his fists. "My father... he died because he knew the truth about Group D. He tried to speak out, didn't he?"
The samurai nodded slowly. "Yes. And Group A silenced him."
"Then I'll burn them all," Omeka snarled. "I'll destroy Group A from the inside. They play gods - but they've forgotten what true divinity is."
Hana touched his shoulder, gently. "Omeka, rage won't bring your father back. But if we fight, we fight smart. We bring justice, not vengeance."
The samurai smiled. "She speaks the truth. Fire and water... your spirits clash, but together, you make steam - power that can move mountains."
He turned, his figure beginning to fade with the breeze. "Seek the lost Groups. Uncover the truth. And beware the corrupted leaders. Even Hashiranga doesn't see all - he sees what is offered to him. The truth lies beneath lies. Find the Blade of Roots. Only then can you challenge the throne of Group A."
"Wait!" Omeka called out. "Will we see you again?"
The samurai paused, barely a silhouette now. "Only when you are ready."
And with that, he was gone - just the night wind whispering through the trees.
Hana stood in silence for a moment before whispering, "Group E... Group D... a thousand groups. We've been living a lie."
Omeka looked to the stars. "Then it's time we start living the truth."
Before you guys hate Group a, let me tell you, your sensei was also from Gruppe. This group was never this before. When your sensei was the leader of Group-a, this world was at peace. Everyone lives with harmony. But after the change of your sensei, there is another leader who was good. But after that, this leader came. His name is Yoroto, the recent leader of Group a. He is here for Groupe a. He died 10 years ago, but his laws are still followed in Groupe-a. If you want to end Group-a, kill Yoroto, who is the main culprit of all of this, said the samurai. But kids, remember, if any one of you dies, this will be very hard to kill them.
---
The samurai's eyes darkened with heavy memories as he spoke again, his voice low and grave. "Before you cast all blame on Group A, listen carefully. Your sensei-he too was once a part of Group A. Back then, Group A was not what it is today. Under your sensei's leadership, this world knew peace. Harmony reigned among the clans, and the samurai upheld their sacred duty with honor."
He paused, looking both Omeka and Hana in the eyes. "But leadership changes, and with it, the fate of many. After your sensei stepped down, another leader took his place-someone good, someone who tried to keep the peace alive. But then came Yoroto."
The name fell like a shadow between them.
"Yoroto is the name of the current leader of Group A. Though he died ten years ago, his harsh laws and cruel doctrines still bind Group A's actions. His influence is a poison that lingers, choking the hearts of those who follow."
The samurai's voice sharpened with warning. "If you truly wish to end the tyranny of Group A and restore balance, you must seek out Yoroto. He is the root of this corruption-the main culprit responsible for the suffering that plagues your world."
His gaze grew solemn, almost pleading. "But remember this-should any one of you fall before the task is done, the burden will grow heavier, the path more perilous. Strength and unity will be your only shield against the darkness."
---
---
Hana looked at the samurai with a raised brow, a hint of skepticism in her voice. "But wait... if you're going to train us, how do we explain it? You're basically dead. What are we supposed to tell our master when you show up for training sessions? That a dead samurai is teaching us?"
The samurai paused, his eyes narrowing as if pondering the question deeply. Then, after a moment, he spoke slowly, voice heavy with meaning. "Tell your master this: the petals are gone, but the soul still resides. Yoroto's body is no more, but the war still rages in his mind. The battle isn't just of flesh and bone - it's a war of spirit and will."
He looked directly at Hana and Omeka, his gaze unwavering. "I exist in that war. In the unseen world where souls clash, I remain. The body may perish, but the spirit... the spirit can linger, can teach, can guide. You will learn from me there, in the space between life and death, where true strength is forged."
Hana swallowed hard, her eyes flickering with a mix of awe and unease. Omeka clenched his jaw, determination burning in his chest. "Then we'll be ready. Tell our master whatever he needs to hear. We won't fail."
The samurai gave a faint, approving smile - a shadow of hope in the darkness. "Good. Because the road ahead is long, and the enemies, relentless. But with your hearts steady, and your wills strong, even death cannot stop you."
---
R
---
As the twilight sun dipped beneath the horizon, casting a warm glow across the sky, Omeka and Hana returned to the base in silence. Their bodies were bruised, their spirits heavy, but something deeper had changed - a secret now pulsed between them, a destiny far greater than either had imagined.
They sat beneath the ancient sakura tree behind the temple, the wind rustling gently through the petals.
Omeka broke the silence first. "Hana... I don't know if we'll ever get normal again after what we saw. That samurai, the truth about Group A, about my father... about the war we're now part of."
Hana nodded, hugging her knees. "It's a lot. But... I've always known something was off in this world. Something broken. Maybe this is why I was kept alive all those years. Maybe this is why we met."
Omeka looked at her, searching her eyes. "You're not afraid?"
"I am," she admitted. "But if I run now, then who's going to stand up against this evil? We know the truth now, Omeka. Group A is rotten from the root. Yotoro's soul still lingers, and his son Yokoza rules with tyranny. If we don't fight, who will?"
Omeka's hand clenched into a fist. "He said I carry 30% of Hashiranga's power... that I can see the unseen because of that. Then maybe... maybe I was never meant to live a normal life."
He stood up slowly, looking toward the darkened sky where stars had begun to appear, one by one. "We'll train with the fallen samurai. We'll learn everything. Then we'll confront Yokoza... and if needed, perish trying."
Hana stood beside him, her expression soft but resolute. "But promise me something."
"What?"
"That we don't forget who we are. Not warriors. Not gods. Just... two kids who never gave up. Promise me, Omeka."
Omeka smiled faintly, extending his pinky finger. "Pinky swear."
She laughed quietly, locking her finger with his. "Then let's change this world."
Behind them, the wind picked up, scattering the sakura petals into the air. In that quiet moment beneath the tree, two souls stood together, bound by pain, purpose, and something deeper - a will to bring light into a world swallowed by shadows.
The war hadn't begun yet, but the warriors were born.
And from this night onward, the petals would fall... not in peace, but as a warning.
---
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Comments
Dulcie
Wow, such a thrilling plot!
2025-06-18
1