NAMAE ISAMU
The road stretched endlessly, dust swirling behind the chariot wheels until the horizon was nothing but red and orange under the sinking sun. By the time I reached a small roadside bar, the light had faded into dusk. I tied the horses outside, the child clinging tightly to my hand as we stepped inside.
The place smelled faintly of smoke and old wood, laughter and chatter echoing from a few scattered tables. I ordered a simple meal, though my appetite was gone. I sat down with Hanse, the child, trying to calm my own heart. The truth was, I was in despair. Sai had told me to go on, to keep moving, to trust that he would catch up. But the memory of the battlefield — of the blood, the beasts, the way his eyes had burned with both strength and exhaustion — gnawed at me.
Hanse tugged at my sleeve, his small voice breaking through my thoughts.
"Namae… is Sai alright?"
I forced a smile, brushing his hair back gently. "Yes. He's alright. He's strong, Hanse. Stronger than anyone I know. But he might be a little late."
It wasn't a lie. It wasn't the truth either.
A low chuckle came from the table beside us. I hadn't noticed the man there before, sitting alone with a half-empty cup of sake. His hair was a deep black, slightly untidy, but it was his eyes that caught me — golden, like sunlight trapped in amber, sharp and unwavering.
"Did I hear you right?" he asked, his voice calm but heavy, as though every word carried a weight behind it. "You said Sai Shinu?"
My breath caught in my chest. Immediately, every instinct screamed at me to stay silent. I didn't know who this man was. I didn't know if he was friend or enemy. Suspicion burned in me like fire.
"…How do you know Sai?" I asked finally, keeping my tone guarded.
The man leaned back in his chair, studying me with a faint smile, almost amused at my caution.
"Well," he said slowly, "I'm his friend… his master… his brother."
My eyes widened, confusion spilling out before I could stop it. "I… I didn't know Sai had a brother."
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Not through blood. But through bond. A bond that runs deeper than blood ever could."
For a moment, silence hung between us. My mind raced, questions swirling like a storm — Who was this man? Why now? Why here? Could I trust him? Or was this just another scheme, another betrayal waiting to unfold?
Yet when I looked into those golden eyes, I saw something different than I expected. Not deceit. Not cruelty. But a memory — an echo of the same weight that Sai carried in his gaze.
And against my better judgment… I wanted to believe him.
The man's golden eyes fixed on me, unblinking, heavy. He set his cup down slowly, the faint clink ringing louder in the silence than it should have.
"I know you can't trust me," he said, his voice low but trembling with something raw — desperation, maybe. "But please… answer me one question. Is it true?"
I narrowed my eyes, every instinct telling me to stay silent. "…What's true?"
His jaw clenched. "He didn't just kill them. He slaughtered them. And not just them — a master too."
For the first time, I saw it: hopelessness etched into his features, like he wanted to believe otherwise but already feared the answer.
"They betrayed him," I said firmly.
Confusion clouded his face, his brows pulling together. "…What do you mean, betrayed him?"
I hesitated. Part of me knew I should keep quiet, keep Sai's secret close. But there was something in this man — in the way he spoke Sai's name with such weight, in the way despair trembled beneath his words. He wasn't an enemy. He was breaking. And maybe the truth would stop that break from becoming something worse.
"The master he killed," I said softly, my voice nearly a whisper, "was my master."
His eyes widened instantly, shock flashing across his golden gaze. "I… I'm sorry. Sai did this to you…"
I shook my head sharply, my hands curling into fists against the table. "No. Don't be sorry. I was the one that helped him kill my master."
He froze, staring at me as though I had spoken a language he couldn't understand. "Why? Why betray your master?"
My voice hardened, each word carrying the weight of the truth that burned inside me. "Because he was the one that killed Sai's mother."
The words landed heavy in the space between us. He said nothing. He just stared, lost — confused, worried, as though the ground had been ripped out from under him.
I continued, forcing myself to speak through the knot tightening in my throat. "After that, somehow… somehow the body Sai buried ended up at the village gate. He didn't know how. None of us did. But once it was found, Sai went to my father. He confessed. They made a deal — that he would fight Sora village's personal army. That it would be safe. That it was just a test."
I laughed bitterly, though my chest ached as I said it. "But my father betrayed him. There was nothing safe about it. He killed them. All nine of them."
The man's eyes widened further, the golden glow within them sharpening. "Wait… you're from Sora village? And Sai… Sai massacred nine soldiers? The personal army trained for missions no one else could survive?" He leaned forward, his voice almost breaking. "And why? Why are you with him after that?"
I felt Hanse shift beside me, his small hand brushing mine, and I looked down at him — at the child I had sworn my life to protect. My voice softened, steady but full of sorrow. "Because I failed a promise. A promise to his mother. I promised her I would protect this child forever. And yes…" I lifted my gaze back to those golden eyes, unwavering. "He killed them all."
The man's face twisted, a storm of disbelief and something deeper — fear, grief, recognition. He pressed his palms against the table, as though bracing himself against a tide that threatened to drag him under.
"Okay," he said finally, his voice low and strained. "That… that promise sounds like Sai. That sounds exactly like him. But…" His eyes searched mine, desperate now. "How? How could he do something like this with just the system?"
I hesitated only a moment, then gave him the truth. "He told me before the battle. He said he had an ability called Gift-Weave. That it let him borrow the powers of those he chose. He told me the names of the two he chose."
The man's hands clenched. "…Who?"
"Yosuke," I said quietly. "And Yuri."
The name hit him like a strike. For a heartbeat, his golden eyes widened in shock — then narrowed with something else. Recognition. Guilt. Fear.