Blade Song

Chapter 21- A Devil's Smile

A couple days passed before I said another word to Six. I actively avoided him, and he seemed to be doing the same to me. When others asked me about him, I simply told them he was someone I used to know back when I was a slave and left it at that. I didn't give a damn about their expectant looks either. I'm sure they wanted more details, but I didn't feel like getting into it.

Thankfully, Kiyoshi didn't mention my weak emotional outburst to anyone else, or even say another word to me about it. I was beyond grateful for this.

Our daily routine continued as normal, as did our nightly chats. I told him a little bit more about my childhood, focusing heavily on my memories of Eight. It hurt a little bit to talk about her, but in the end, it always brought a smile to my face.

The fox shared a little bit more about his childhood too, which were mostly happy memories, but sometimes he'd share a memory that wasn't so happy. These almost always involved him failing to help someone, or causing someone pain for the sake of saving his fake face. A lot of these stories involved occurrences at Paradise Bay, an area that contained the largest slave trade this side of demon world. It made me wonder what came first, the name or the slave sales. Either way, the irony of it made you sick.

In Paradise Bay, Kiyoshi had to keep his mask on nearly the entire time. It was also the place where he'd bought the majority of the children he'd saved over the years, and this time would be no exception.

As much as I wasn't looking forward to the dreadful place at all, it was unavoidable. Passage through the bay was the only way to reach the White Wood without sticking to a much more difficult and lengthy path.

I wasn't really sure what to do when he told me these sad stories. What do you say to someone who has to walk through the filth of a slave house pretending to like it? That has to turn a blind eye to their helpless faces? To pick and choose the ones to save, knowing you can't help them all?

My nonjudgmental presence was all I had to offer, and I hope that this was enough.

After a couple days, I finally worked up the courage to approach Six. He was sitting alone after we'd made camp for the night, just watching the others. It was almost like looking at myself. He was acting the same way I did the first several days after I'd joined the group.

"Here." I held out a bowl of stir-fried cabbage with egg and rice. "You hungry?"

"Thanks." He took it and I sat down next to him.

"I see they found you a shirt."

He chuckled and rubbed the thin fabric between his fingers. "Yeah, I guess I only look like a freak from the neck up now."

I grimaced. "Six, I'm sorry. I really mean that-"

He put his hand up. "It's fine. Honestly, I can't say I didn't hate you. I was so mad after you left, mad at myself more than anything, I think. Why didn't I have the courage to do what you did, or at the very least, go with you? I had to put that anger somewhere. You were really easy to blame because you were gone." He sighed and leaned his head back. "Then I saw you again the other day after so many years, and it was like the floodgates reopened. There you were still walking around outside while I was stuck in a cage, even stronger than you were back then."

"Stronger?" I laughed. "I don't think I was strong at all then."

He shook his head. "You don't get it. We started training at the same time, and even though I'm a little older, pretty soon you were beating me all the time. I was so scared every time I went down into that pit to face whatever crazed beast Masahiko found. I questioned every action, hesitated all the time, but you, you treated fighting like an art form. I really idolized you, you know?"