The wind at dawn brought scents of damp earth while smoke from a wood stove drifted through the air - Tari sprinting hard, legs pumping just to survive.
His slippers had vanished sometime back. Blood trickled from his bare soles. Beads of sweat ran down his bony cheeks, joining grime, quiet sobs, panic. Behind him, the ground quivered under furious stomps along with sharp clangs of steel.
The Red Scorpion bikers were near. Way too near.
"Get that kid!" someone yelled - rough as gravel under boots.
Tari pushed on, sprinting through thick brush, leaping over dead trees, shoving prickly limbs away while they sliced his arms. No clue where he headed. Didn't trust anyone left to back him up. One thing stuck -
If they grabbed him, he'd be done.
He grabbed the tiny necklace hanging from his neck - the only object Baba Jaja had shoved into his palm right before the killers arrived.
That moment still stings. Worse than a knife ever could.
Last night the old guy was still around, saying fate moves like a stream - keeps going where it needs, even if folks try to stop it.
Now Baba Jaja had left.
He died because of Tari. At least that's what the kid thought.
Twigs cracked back there. The horse's feet pounded hard.
"Tari!" one rider barked. "We know you're tired. Surrender and we'll spare you."
That false claim once more. They kept saying it, just like lines from a tune.
Tari rubbed his nose, muttering low. "Fakes."
Up ahead, the dense woods broke into an open space filled with clumps of towering bamboo. These leafy stalks rocked softly, blocking out everything behind. Tari didn't hesitate - he plunged right through.
Inside, things shifted - air turned crisp while noise faded out. Trees stood close, rising up like endless columns. Each one felt still… watchful almost.
Tari's breath came in short gasps. His legs wobbled, unsteady beneath him. One thought hit hard - he had no strength left to keep going.
So he stopped.
His heart pounded hard inside his chest. A ringing noise filled both ears. He felt like crying, yet lifted his chin anyway while squeezing his hands tight.
"I won't let them take me," he whispered to himself. "Not alive."
He glanced sideways, hunting for whatever might help - like a thick branch, maybe a rock, or even a jagged piece of bamboo. Just one thing. Whatever worked.
Yet everything he saw felt hollow.
A rider charged into the open space. Next came a second one. After that, a third showed up.
Three guys. Each carrying a weapon. Every one of them is risky.
Tari moved backward, one wobbly foot after another, till his spine brushed against the bamboo.
The first guy dropped off his horse, staring sharp and mean.
"So this is the boy causing all this trouble," he said. "Small thing like you?"
Tari didn't answer.
"You think you can run forever? The general wants you alive, but me…" He smirked and pulled out a dagger. "Alive is relative."
Tari started gasping. As fear took over, his sight got hazy.
Then---
A tiny rock shot from behind, hitting the boss right on his hand.
The dagger fell.
The riders turned their heads quickly - sudden movement catching their attention.
Then, moving slowly from behind the thick bamboo, came one person alone:
Okuta.
The unknown person from a day ago.
His straw hat sat tipped a bit ahead, shadowing nearly all of his features. The fabric of his kimino fluttered soft in the breeze, while strapped at his side rested a dark blade - flat, dull, drinking in darkness instead of shine.
He seemed chill, kinda unbothered - like he'd just woken up from dozing off.
The woods seemed more closed in now, somehow.
The boss looked upset. "What's your name?"
Okuta didn't reply.
"Mind your business, wanderer," another rider said. "We're after the boy. Move aside."
Yet Okuta stayed quiet.
A guy hocked a loogie. "Can't you hear - or are you just dumb?"
Tari froze, barely breathing. He knew this guy - it was that stranger from the day before who'd stayed quiet... the one who'd just turned and left without a word.
What was he doing here at this moment?
The boss grabbed the dropped knife, then aimed it toward Okuta.
"Last warning."
Okuta lifted his gaze at last. Beneath the brim, one eye - pale grey, hard like metal - caught the light.
"Your warning is too long," he said simply.
The riders looked at each other, unsure. They shared a puzzled stare instead.
After that, someone foolish rushed forward.
He didn't make it to Okuta at all.
A small shift - almost nothing - and the traveler was already moving. One second later, he appeared right behind the guy rushing forward. The blade hadn't even left its cover. Yet the attacker stopped dead in place.
A single drop trickled from his neck.
Then another.
He dropped flat on his face in the woods.
Dead.
Tari sucked in a breath. Meanwhile, the rest staggered away, scared stiff.
"Wh--What did you do?" one stuttered.
Okuta stayed silent. Instead, he moved closer - slow, like a person heading out for street snacks without a care.
The last two riders freaked out but charged at once - swords glinting, boots slamming dirt, shouting loud.
The fighter just stood there, no sword lifted.
He moved through their attacks like water slipping between hands. Not a single extra move, never hurried, never scared. Calm, sharp, exact every time.
He slammed his elbow into the guy's side. A crack snapped loose. The guy yelled, then dropped fast.
The next one attempted a sneak attack from the back.
Okuta moved a bit. So the sword barely missed him.
In a single smooth motion, Okuta pulled out his blade.
Shiiing.
A spark. Then a streak. Maybe a sigh.
The biker tumbled one way - then another.
Silence.
The bamboo grove grew quiet once more, like it didn't want to remember what had happened. Tari shoved himself tighter into the stalks, pulse spiking while he watched the unknown man.
Okuta flicked the blood from his sword, sliding it into the scabbard without pause.
He seemed anything but proud.
He seemed calm.
He wasn't even showing signs of being worn out.
He just seemed... the same.
Like this sort of dying happened every day.
Like he'd witnessed it all before - and lived through the aftermath.
He looked at Tari - just then their eyes connected.
"Not you," he muttered.
Tari gulped. His words broke mid-sound. "Y-You got me outta there."
Okuta scoffed. "If I wanted to save you, I would have done it yesterday."
Tari felt his chest tighten. "Then… why did you help me now?"
The swordsman glanced off, eyes moving through the trees.
"You were being noisy."
Tari blinked. "…Eh?"
Okuta walked past him toward the clearing edge. "Your running and shouting was disturbing the peace. I hate noise."
Tari stared in disbelief. "So… you saved me because I was somehow stressing you?"
"No." Okuta paused. "I saved myself from the nuisance."
Tari nearly chuckled. Just about. But not quite.
Yet suddenly, a shift hit deep within. Fear mixed with release, topped by sheer tiredness - waves crashing all at once. He buckled, dropping slowly along the pole, as emotions spilled through quiet sobs.
"I don't know what to do anymore," he said between breaths. "Everyone chasing me… everyone trying to kill me… Baba Jaja is gone… I have nobody."
Okuta stayed facing forward.
"Not my concern."
Tari clenched his fists. "Please… at least take me out of the forest. Just to the next village. Please."
"No."
"Why?"
"I don't escort anyone."
Tari rubbed his cheek, then gave it another shot. "L-look, I could give you cash!"
Okuta lifted one brow. "Using what?"
"…I don't know." Tari looked down. "But I'll find a way."
The fighter stood frozen - just seconds passing. Then nothing but far-off gusts broke the silence.
Then he told me, "Head back, kid."
"I don't have a home anymore."
Tari spoke softly, like a kid worn out by life - someone way older than he looked.
Okuta turned around - just once - and stared right at him.
A spark from the past - worn out, forgotten - lit up his gaze.
A memory.
A regret.
A wound.
Then it disappeared fast.
"This path is dangerous," Okuta finally said. "Following me is worse."
Tari got up unsteadily, holding onto the bamboo to stay balanced.
"I don't care," he said. "If I stay alone, I'll die. If I follow you… maybe I'll die too. But at least I'll die trying."
Okuta stared.
Tari sucked in air, pulling together bravery he hadn't realized was there.
"Please. Even if it's for one day. I don't want to be alone today."
The woods went still once more, as if everything held its breath, waiting on the fighter's reply.
Okuta clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"You're a pain," he grumbled.
Tari stayed quiet, waiting. He didn't make a sound.
The swordsman shifted his hat - then slowly offered a small nod.
"One day," he said. "After that, you go your own way."
Tari's mouth opened wide, shocked. "Wait... you're actually gonna back me up?"
"Don't make me regret it."
Tari nearly grinned - sort of shaky, kind of rough - but it marked the first time his face did that since yesterday's dark hours.
Okuta walked forward. "Move. We need to leave before more come."
Tari rushed behind him.
Back there, the bamboo grove rocked soft once more, like it was murmuring a faint alert - just out of their ears' reach.
A sudden crash took place - yet it changed everything.
Nothing in Kyoden would stay like it was.