Underneath the Red Trees

CHAPTER 38: LOSS

Ryogetsu did not know how much time passed before the prison cell door opened again. It could have been hours. Or maybe it was days. He had stopped counting. He had stopped asking. The samurai that had been ordered to escort him stood there watching him before they forced him to his feet.

His escorts were anything but quiet. They kept chattering as they rode their horses through the snow-covered forest.

Ryogetsu was sat on a horse riding behind them, his hands tied. He had said nothing the entire way. He was still thinking of Yuuki, treasuring his last moments with him.

Snowflakes fell down from the sky into his hair and into his beard, white contrasting with onyx.

They were halfway, now. One of the samurai glanced back. "Ryogetsu of Naguchi," he said thoughtfully. "For someone with such a fierce reputation I expected more." Ryogetsu's expression did not change. He was trying to provoke Ryogetsu. However, he was grieving. He had no energy for conflict. Not even the cold bothered him.

With Yuuki gone he felt empty inside. What reason did he have for living without him? Maybe he would be better off if these samurai just killed him. That way he could join Yuuki in the afterlife.

When insulting Ryogetsu directly did not work, the samurai changed tactics. "Say," he started again, "What was the Akano like in bed."

Ryogetsu raised his eyes. He had been staring at the horse's neck all day. This was the first look he had gotten of their faces. He could feel his eyes begin to burn.

The samurai smirked cruelly. "Hey, I get it, with a face like that I would bed him, too."

"You are disgusting," the other one said. But Ryogetsu did not hear him.

What right did this man have to speak of Yuuki? His Yuuki. Who did he think he was?

The samurai snickered, "What did he look like when you pushed him down, huh? I bet it was real arousing."

Red flashed before Ryogetsu's eyes. The first emotion other than grief he had felt in days was pure, unrelenting rage. The only emotion he would ever feel again. He lost control.

The ropes binding his wrists snapped as the temperature around him rose. The horses became nervous. Ryogetsu jumped down, letting his horse gallop away. The snow around his feet melted.

"Hey!" the samurai shouted. They were losing control of their own horses. Though they were in a forest covered in snow, the smouldering heat felt more like a desert.

A katana materialised in Ryogetsu's hand. He unsheathed it. The samurai became nervous. The first nudged his horse into a gallop. Ryogetsu threw his sword, striking the samurai in his exposed neck. His body went limp and fell from the horse as it trotted away.

The remaining samurai was thrown from his horse. This horse, too, ran away.

Ryogetsu strode toward the samurai. A path was melted into the snow with every step he took. The samurai backed up until his back hit a tree trunk. The man was whimpering, begging for his life.

Ryogetsu crouched down before him.

He did not say anything. Instead, he stared at the samurai's face absentmindedly. His irises were glowing, like the colour of a flame.

Ryogetsu reached forward and grabbed him by the crown of his head. The pressure of heat was already hard on the samurai. The heat rapidly increased, melting the snow around them.

The samurai screamed. Steam seemed to be coming from his body. The man begged for mercy through wails as his insides burned from the boiling water inside his body.

Blood spilt from his orifices and the bloodcurdling screams resulting from his organ failures annoyed Ryogetsu's ears.

When the man's screams silenced, Ryogetsu released his head. His body fell forward, dead.

The heat stopped almost instantly.

Ryogetsu stared at the corpse in a daze. Under ordinary circumstances, he would never have brutally murdered two people like he had just done. He no longer felt like himself. He stayed hunched over for a long time.

Footfalls in the snow brought Ryogetsu out of his daze. He craned his neck and saw Dashi over his shoulder. "Hmm?" she hummed. Her face was indifferent.

Dashi was too emotionless. Too nonchalant. Was Yuuki not her friend? How could she react to his death this way? It was unthinkable...

Ryogetsu's eyes resembled those of a madman.

Then, Dashi's pale lips broke out into a grin. She pressed her lips into a line. What was she laughing at? What was so funny?

Dashi's back hit the ground with a thud. She did not scream, instead she laughed. What was so funny? She cackled when Ryogetsu's hands wrapped around her throat. What was so goddamn funny? But the laughter choked in her throat when his grip tightened.

There was sudden shock in Dashi's eyes. Ryogetsu laughed when he saw it. It was a sound so foreign and unfamiliar that he could not recognise it as his own voice. Because he never laughed like that. His laughter was never depraved. Never cruel.

Dashi struggled against the deadly grip around her throat. Her limbs flailed and her body squirmed as precious air was stolen from her. Her fingernails dug into Ryogetsu's skin, leaving behind deep scratches. Drool dripped down the side of her mouth.

The emotions she could be feeling were far from Ryogetsu's thoughts. His fingers tightened around her porcelain throat. Tighter. Tighter...

Long after Dashi's body went limp Ryogetsu's grip was still tightening. He was not sure how long it took him to realise she was dead.

His grip finally loosened. Ryogetsu sat upon Dashi's corpse for a while, looking at her dead face with those lightless eyes that stared off to the side.

Snow fell, covering her as if to give her some semblance of a respectful burial.

Ryogetsu eyes were listless. As if he had been destroyed. As if there was nothing left of the Ryogetsu of Naguchi he had once been. The one who had been worthy. The one who had been righteous. He had been good.

The tears were gone now. The screams that wanted to rip from his throat had gone, too. All that was left was a broken man. A man lost.

All reason slipped from his psyche. There was nothing left of him.