Underneath the Red Trees

CHAPTER 57: THE NAGUCHI SWORDS

Hayate heard Zaizen's cane tap-tapping against the tiles in the kitchen. As he entered the kitchen, beady little eyes laid on Hayate. Zaizen stayed wordless. He turned his head away and stared at his rice cooker. The machine whirred as it sent the smell of cooking rice through the kitchen.

After a time, Zaizen peered at Hayate. "Did you know?" Hayate asked.

Zaizen rose a thinnish brow, as if to ask: What are you talking about, boy?

"My brother is the Face Eater. Did you know?"

Zaizen sighed, unamused.

He may be immortal, but he could stand to learn how to interact with people properly.

He placed the butt of his cane on the floor with a muffled thump. He rose from his seat. "Come with me." Zaizen went to the corner of the kitchen. He tapped his cane on the floorboard thrice. It lifted. "Open that."

Hayate sighed, knelt, and lifted the floorboard. What he saw shocked him. Beneath the secret door was a staircase leading into the dark unknown beneath Zaizen's house. Zaizen stepped down first. Hayate followed.

It was too dark to see the steps, so Hayate held onto the wall to steady himself. As they delved deeper into the basement, Hayate felt like there was a cursed energy trying to suffocate him.

The lights flickered on, revealing the concrete walls of a bunker-like room. "Wow."

"I had it built during World War I for my own safety."

"Why are we here?' Hayate asked, "And what's with all the resentful energy?"

Zaizen pointed to the wall behind Hayate with his cane. Hayate turned around and found the source of the resentment that had been suffocating him since the start of their descent into the bunker.

His breath caught in his throat. On the wall hung two swords. The blades rusted. The engravings were no longer visible. The wood of the hilts, rotted. The sheaths were gone. One of the swords' blades had been broken in half. The world had taken a toll on the once magnificent swords.

After Ryogetsu had burned down his old home, the swords had been lost, no doubt. Pillaged by ronin or thieves. The reason Hayate was so shocked was because he had assumed they had been lost after World War II, like so many other Japanese swords. He reached out to the swords, feeling the roughness of the rusted metal under his fingers.

"How?"

"I found them," Zaizen said, "Years before the war. I hid them away for safe keeping."

Hayate twisted his hips to look at the old man. "Why?"

Zaizen took a step forward, shrugging his shoulders. "Objects with this much sentiment attached to them can often store memories." Zaizen turned his black eyes to Hayate. "Perhaps, showing them to Jinshiro will remind him of the past."

Hayate kept his eyes on the swords. His heart felt heavy. "Or they might be the key to his demise."

Outside Zaizen's home, Kaguya was crouched down with her head in her hands. It was taking a lot from her just to keep herself from crying again. The previous night's events had sent her into a state of grief. The anguish she had gone through the first time had reared its ugly head like an old familiar virus. Eating away at her still. It had taken her years to get over it. In fact, it had taken death and rebirth for her to start healing. Now here she was again, like nothing had changed.

She had trouble wrapping her mind around it.

Jinshiro... survived. Not really. He was a Break now. Not really alive anymore. Was he even still the Jinshiro she had known? The sweet, loving, caring Jinshiro she had loved.

She was so confused.

He could not have changed that much. Kaguya held a firm belief that people could never change their true nature. If one was born good, then despite what one endured, one stayed good.

Sighing, Kaguya turned her head up to stare at the sky. "Jinshiro," she murmured, "What happened to you?"

All of a sudden, a shadow moved over her, covering her body from the sun. She met a pitch-black eye and a glowing red one.

Kaguya pursed her lips together.

Jinshiro stared at her for a time, as if taking in her face. He used to do that. He would just stare at her in silence, as if committing every detail of her face to memory. Especially before he went off to war. She should have recognised that mannerism at the funeral, but she had made her peace with Jinshiro's demise.

"Shall we take a walk?" he asked.

He stretched out a hand to her to help her to her feet.

They walked in silence, basking in the sunlight of the early morning.

"What happened to you?" she asked. He did not answer her. She glanced at him. "Why hurt Hayate—Ryogetsu like this. He is your brother." He was still quiet. Kaguya halted in her step. She grabbed Jinshiro's arm. "Answer me!"

Jinshiro stared at her. His eyes were soft. Looking away, he dragged a hand through his hair. "He let you burn."

Kaguya shook her head. "He wasn't in his right mind, Jinshiro. He lost his love, like I lost you." Tears started to well up in her eyes again. "It wasn't his fault."

Jinshiro would not meet her eyes. She did not know whether he felt embarrassed or he refused to believe her. He shook his head. "I would never blame you."

Kaguya grabbed his hand. "Look at me."

He turned his head, and he saw her tears. He stepped closer to her, almost out of habit, and wiped her eyes. "Don't cry," he whispered. Her voice caught in her throat. She basked in his touch, though it was cold instead of warm, like it had been. It was him. He was the man she had held onto for two lifetimes.

Kaguya shuddered. She squeezed his hand. "It was my fault. If I—" The tears streamed down her face again. Her voice cracked, "If I had the courage to save you from your father... if I had ignored what you had said back then, you wouldn't be like this now."

Jinshiro was frowning. She didn't know what he was thinking. The tears made her eyes blur. She sobbed.

And then she was pulled into his embrace. He held her tight. He held her close. Allowing her to cry, just as Hayate had. These two brothers were alike. Even now...

But when her tears calmed, before she knew it, he was gone again.

Masaki ran through the streets of Tokyo. He heard Nakamura and her goons chasing him. His stomach turned with the fear of it.

He had dropped his phone a few blocks back when he tried to call Hayate.

He didn't know where he was. He had been running a good four hours now. When he got tired he had slipped into the subway, but they had followed him, nonetheless.

He panted. Sweat dripped down his face.

Without his phone he was lost. He couldn't call anyone to help him. He was afraid. Would he die today? He didn't want to die!

"KIRIGAYA, YOU LITTLE FUCK!" Nakamura's voice boomed through the streets. Masaki looked up. She was on a rooftop, grinning a malicious grin at him. She pointed her pistols at him. Masaki's heart stopped.

BANG!