Jūzō lay sprawled on the ground for a brief moment, his breath stolen, his body still reeling from the sheer violence of the blow. The world seemed to vibrate around him, as if the impact itself refused to fade.
Slowly, one knee struck the asphalt.
Then another.
He pushed himself up, inch by inch, his gaze already locked onto Sakuya. His eyes trembled with a sick excitement, shining with feral rage. He cracked his neck, then his shoulders, the sharp sound of his joints echoing through the narrow alley. His head tilted slightly forward, like a predator about to charge.
"Son of a bitch…" he growled through clenched teeth.
"You know your time's up, right?"
A thin stream of blood slipped from his mouth. He spat violently onto the ground, crimson saliva splattering against the concrete.
"You're going to die!!!!"
His body tensed all at once.
Every muscle contracted in brutal unison, swelling in an almost inhuman way. Veins burst beneath his skin, carving violent lines across his face, his neck, his arms. His expression twisted, overflowing with pure hatred.
Then he moved.
The ground exploded beneath his push.
Jūzō lunged at Sakuya at an unreal speed, closing the distance in an instant. His fist tore through the air, carrying all his mass, all his rage, thrown at full force straight toward Sakuya's face.
The impact was catastrophic.
Sakuya felt the blow crash into him like a missile. The violence surged through his skull, his spine, every bone in his body absorbing the shock in a terrifying internal collapse. The force was so overwhelming it felt as if it might rip his consciousness apart, as if even his soul had been struck.
His body was launched backward.
He flew six, maybe seven meters before slamming violently into the massive trunk of a ginkgo lining the alley. Wood cracked, bark shattered, and Sakuya rebounded heavily before crashing to the ground with a dull thud.
Sakuya no longer understood anything.
He could not really see. The world around him was nothing more than a vague sensation, a formless pressure without color or shape. Sounds still existed somewhere, muffled and distant, as if filtered through an unreal thickness. His body felt foreign, heavy, broken.
Then, slowly and painfully, something reconnected.
His breathing first. Broken. Irregular.
Then gravity. The ground beneath his fingers.
Finally, pain.
He forced himself. Again. And again.
Every movement was torture. Every attempt to rise demanded an almost absurd amount of will. But somehow, he managed. Shaking. Unsteady. Standing anyway.
His gaze locked back onto Jūzō.
Without thinking, Sakuya charged again.
He rushed forward, gathering what little clarity he had left, focusing his Seimei into his leg the way Mizunashi had taught him. The energy condensed, heavy and dense, ready to explode. His kick sliced through the air at an absurd speed, carrying a precision he never believed he could achieve.
But it hit nothing.
Jūzō dodged.
Not with a leap.
Not with any visible effort.
Just a slight shift of his torso. Minimal. Almost lazy.
The kick cut through empty space, hissing just centimeters from him. Sakuya barely had time to process what had happened before he saw Jūzō's expression.
A smile.
A simple smirk, stretched across his vein-covered face. Mocking. Almost amused.
As if what had just been thrown at him was nothing more than a clumsy attempt.
As if all of this was easy.
Jūzō did not give him time to breathe.
He grabbed Sakuya by the torso with titanic strength, his fingers nearly sinking through torn fabric and flesh. In a fraction of a second, he pivoted, a perfect and brutal rotation, then smashed Sakuya into the ground.
Head first.
The impact was horrific.
Sakuya's skull struck the concrete with such violence that it felt as though the entire world folded in on itself. A dry, hollow sound echoed through the alley. His body trembled, then went limp.
He could not understand.
His mind refused to accept that his skull had not shattered instantly.
Jūzō did not allow him to think any further.
He positioned himself above Sakuya, dominating him, crushing him, a massive shadow blocking what little light remained. Sakuya was already dazed, pinned to the ground, unable to react.
Then the punches began.
Fists.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Each blow slammed into his face with unreal speed and power. These were not human strikes. It was like enduring repeated earthquakes, each impact rattling his skull, his jaw, his teeth, his brain.
The world came apart.
Sakuya was barely conscious.
If at all.
He felt something slipping away from him. Slowly. Inevitably. Just like during the catastrophe. Just like that day. Just like when Kanao…
Nothing truly existed in his mind anymore.
Only scattered thoughts.
I can't feel anything anymore.
Is this the end?
Finally…
Then a voice tore through the air.
Wounded. Dissonant. Filled with pure terror.
"LET HIM GO!!"
"LET HIM GO!!!!"
"STOP!!!"
Shinobu…
It's Shinobu…
The blows kept coming.
Relentless.
Sakuya felt his body grow heavy, inert, incapable of even responding to pain. And yet, something inside him tightened.
A single thought.
Clear.
Violent.
I DON'T WANT HIM TO TOUCH ME ANYMORE.
His eyes snapped open.
A violent violet aura burst around his body, unstable, warping the air like supernatural heat. Space itself seemed to tremble, twisting slightly around him.
His eyes shone.
A vivid green. Intense. Inhuman.
And suddenly…
The blows passed through him.
Jūzō's fists met no flesh.
They went through Sakuya as if he were no longer fully there.
His strikes smashed into the concrete beneath, shattering the ground, carving multiple craters around Sakuya's head. The floor exploded under the released force, cracked and pulverized.
But Sakuya…
Was no longer being hit.
He had vanished from the impact.
Present.
But not entirely existing.
Sakuya used that brief opening to escape.
His body moved on its own. He rolled to the side instinctively, as if that simple motion could carry him out of danger. He did not think. He moved because staying still was no longer an option.
Then he stood.
And to his surprise, he rose far more easily than he expected.
His legs did not give out. His vision did not blur. His breathing, though heavy, was no longer on the verge of collapse.
It felt as if something had returned to him.
A strength.
An anchor.
A presence he thought he had lost seconds ago.
Sakuya blinked, unsettled by his own physical state, then noticed Jūzō's gaze.
And that was when he understood something had changed.
Jūzō no longer wore that crushing confidence, that arrogant certainty he had displayed since the fight began. His stare was rigid, tense, but above all… disturbed.
The absolute confidence was gone.
In its place stood raw shock. Doubt. A tight, creeping unease.
Jūzō stared at Sakuya as if he had just witnessed something that should never have existed.
"…You didn't actually just pull that off."
His voice had lost some of its swagger. Not much. But enough to be noticeable.
He glanced briefly at the devastated ground beneath his fists, the still-smoking cracks in the concrete, then slowly raised his eyes back to Sakuya.
"You can perform a fusion of soul and Seimei..."
"In that little time?"
Sakuya frowned.
A fusion of soul and Seimei?
The idea passed through his thoughts without finding purchase. It meant nothing to him.
"…What are you talking about?"
Jūzō spat blood onto the ground, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before letting out a harsh laugh.
"Stop screwing with me, asshole," he snapped.
"My punches just went straight through you."
The words hit Sakuya hard.
He froze for a split second.
His memories of the last moments were blurry. Fragmented. Pain. Screams. The aura. The ground exploding beneath Jūzō's fists.
He had felt nothing pass through him.
In that instant, Sakuya realized something deeply unsettling.
What had just happened was not a conscious choice.
Not a deliberate technique.
Not even something he knew how to do.
His body had reacted before his mind.
And he still did not understand the rules.
His thoughts were cut short.
Jūzō did not linger on the incomprehensible.
He attacked.
He rushed Sakuya with raw violence, reproducing almost perfectly the kick Sakuya had attempted earlier. Same angle. Same trajectory. Same killing intent.
But this time…
There was no impact.
The strike passed cleanly through Sakuya.
No resistance.
No flesh.
No collision.
For a fraction of a second, the world froze.
Sakuya saw Jūzō inside him.
Not a blur. Not an impression. A clear, disturbing vision. The lines of his face, the tension in his muscles, the rage still burning in his eyes.
Instinct took over.
Sakuya struck back.
His fist moved.
A clean, direct, tangible punch.
This time, it landed.
His fist smashed into Jūzō's jaw with a dull, brutal sound. A tooth flew free, bouncing across the concrete. Jūzō staggered back a step, genuinely surprised.
Something clicked inside Sakuya's mind.
An incomplete understanding. But enough.
For reasons he did not yet know, he could choose.
Choose to be there.
Or not.
Tangible.
Or intangible.
Not through mastery.
But through sheer will.
That was enough.
This time, Sakuya attacked.
He rushed Jūzō, abusing his new ability with clumsy but terrifying efficiency. His strikes came fast and erratic. Jūzō tried to counter, but too many of his blows passed through Sakuya, slipping into nothing but air.
Until…
A knee.
Jūzō's knee slammed into Sakuya's sternum.
Exactly where it had struck during their first encounter.
The air was ripped from Sakuya's lungs. His vision blurred, but he refused to fall. Despite the pain, he kept striking, his fists hammering into Jūzō, who now refused to retreat.
The tempo escalated.
Drastically.
Jūzō accelerated, desperately searching for an opening, throwing strike after strike in hopes some would land.
And some did.
A blow to the face.
Another to the liver.
A third to the neck.
Each hit hurt.
But each time, Sakuya answered back.
They traded blows in a blood-soaked chaos, a theater of raw violence where every strike felt final. Blood stained the ground. The air vibrated with their movements.
Little by little, Sakuya gained the upper hand.
Until something changed.
An aura.
Weak. Almost imperceptible.
A faint green glow brushed Jūzō's skin like a subtle vibration, but it was enough. His reflexes sharpened instantly. His speed increased.
And he struck.
Again.
Again.
With renewed, inhuman violence.
A punch to the face sent Sakuya flying back. Another made him stagger. His legs finally gave out, and he dropped to one knee, gasping.
That was when he saw it.
Jūzō's left flank.
Open. Exposed.
A tiny opening. But real.
Sakuya had no choice.
In one final effort, refusing to collapse, he gathered everything he had left and struck with all his strength.
His fist passed through Jūzō's body.
It did not touch him.
Nothing.
A fraction of a second passed.
Then…
He felt something.
Resistance.
Heat.
Presence.
His arm was inside Jūzō.
Through his flank. Inside him. All the way through.
Time stopped.
Jūzō's eyes widened.
His body collapsed instantly, dropping to his knees in front of Sakuya. Blood poured from his mouth, splashing heavily onto the concrete.
Silence fell. Thick. Unreal.
Sakuya stood frozen.
His arm still trapped inside Jūzō's body.
Jūzō slowly lifted his eyes to meet his.
There was no rage left.
No hatred.
Only painful clarity.
Blood streamed from his mouth, down his chin, staining the ground beneath him. His breathing was ragged, each inhale a struggle.
"You…" he whispered.
He tried to smile. A broken grin.
"You're the one… who's going to kill me, fina…"
The words died in his throat.
Blood poured out again, cutting him off completely. His body trembled once, then remained there, kneeling, held upright only by Sakuya's arm still impaled through him.
Sakuya did not answer.
A moment ago, he had been driven by absolute determination.
The next, he was frozen.
Paralyzed.
His mind refused to assemble what he was seeing. What he was feeling. What he had just done.
His arm was stuck.
Not symbolically.
Not metaphorically.
He was literally holding Jūzō's life in his hands.
The warmth of blood.
The resistance of flesh.
The brutal reality of the act.
It was all too real.
His fingers trembled, barely, as if they no longer belonged to him.
His breath caught painfully in his chest.
Sakuya slowly lowered his gaze.
Blood slid down his arm, hot and thick, gathering before dripping onto the ground one drop at a time.
He looked back up at Jūzō.
His voice came out as a broken breath.
"…What have I done?"