Misao

  The scent of iron hit Misao’s nostrils like an arrow as they watched the battle unfold before them. The battle seemed to be going well so far: with Himari’s initial charge, the first ranks had managed to pierce through the first line without much issue. But quickly things were becoming mired and dirty. Chikao had decided on a skirmishing strategy, motioning to keep their army from holding on any single engagement for too long. But three units had already been lost in the shuffle. They couldn’t locate them, and Chikao had long stopped trying to signal them to maneuver.

  “How long do you think we’ll be able to last?” They asked impassively between Chikao and Shizuku. “Will Himari-san have enough time?”

  Chikao grimaced. “Depends on how long that tunnel is, I think. They aren’t moving to encircle yet, which bodes well. But our position isn’t great. Maybe… Two hours? Three, if they stay passive. Which they won’t.”

  Shizuku grunted in displeasure. “I take it that victory in the field isn’t an option here?”

  “Not unless we get one hell of a miracle.”

  The woman drew her katana smoothly. “Then we really are relying on the expertise of a girl who couldn’t manipulate her own Aura two weeks ago, and an assassin we are pretty sure is still partially working for the enemy. We really are fucked, aren’t we?”

  Misao’s eyes rolled almost to the back of their head. “One day, I really do pray that you learn to have some faith in Himari-san.”

  “She’s not the one I’m worried about,” Shizuku shook her head. “I wouldn’t have agreed to select her as Captain if I was.”

  “Isn’t it too late to continue bringing up your feelings about Maiko-san being a threat?”

  “I would be an irresponsible Chosen if I didn’t have concerns.”

  “Later, assholes!” Chikao’s voice cut through the conversation. “We’ve got cavalry incoming! Brace!”

  Charging from their western flank, ten riders on horses charged towards them with thundering hooves. Misao ran forward to meet them, drawing their blade in one smooth motion, and throwing themselves in over the line of riders with Air Aura. Their blade sliced down on a rider’s back, and they grimaced as he heard the scream and subsequent thump on the hard ground. As they turned to reengage, he saw Shizuku’s own blade strike down two in quick succession. They took a breath. Small mercy, this small force wouldn’t pose much of a threat.

  The two mopped up the remaining cavalry swiftly, but any hope that they had bought relief was swiftly dashed as they looked ahead. The high flying banner of Oda Jizomaru came charging directly for them. He was coming to end the fighting in a single decisive strike.

  Misao popped their shoulder and sighed. “Why did we send our best swordswoman off on an assassination mission?” They smirked over towards Shizuku, who looked deathly serious as always.

  “Is this really the time to be joking around?” Her eyes glanced at them oh so briefly before returning to the task at hand.

  Misao shrugged, taking their stance as Jizomaru’s face came into view. “If this is where I die, I would rather die smiling.” Their face set into a calm, serene smile. Briefly, they send up a prayer to the Kami. They were going to need it.

  Despite their readiness, Jizomaru’s horse stopped a few feet out of the range of their swords and spears. He dismounted with a swift, graceful motion, a placid smile on his face. “Ah, my colleagues. Please be a dear and end this farce, won’t you? Hand over Horobei-san and the Tenth and we can discuss amicable terms for your execution. We could use a nice poison, you won’t feel a thing.”

  Misao smirked at Jizomaru’s declaration. “Oh, come now. We haven’t even had a chance to make a brave but futile final stand yet. At least offer us that joy.” He started carefully circling to the right of Jizomaru. Shizuku moved to flank him to his left. He backpedaled slowly, keeping them from being able to put either of them at his back.

  “I won’t offer you the courtesy of surrender,” Shizuku’s voice was a growl as she burst forward. Misao cursed to himself as he moved to support her. Shizuku’s blade rose high in the air, striking down in a swift, killing arc.

  Only to make contact with nothing. Jizomaru stepped almost casually to her right, his foot rising to meet her face with a precise kick. As she went sprawling, Misao’s blade thrusted forward for his back, only for their own sword to be slapped aside with one move from his blade. “Oh come now, please don’t bore me. You are Chosen of the Emperor, are you not? Please tell me that you intend to give me more of a challenge than this!”

  Shizuku was the first to respond. She was on her feet quickly, her blade singing for his neck again. Again, he moved with a horrifically smooth motion, stepping just outside the arc of her katana. He swung for her neck, and Shizuku was barely able to spoil the blow, still earning a small cut against her neck for her trouble. Even as Misao redoubled their attack, he seemed almost bored as his blade knocked them away yet again. “How disappointing. I overestimated both of you. I-” His words were interrupted as the giant fist of Chikao cracked his face, sending him now sprawling.

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  “Did anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?” Chikao growled as he drew his sword. “It’s fucking distracting.”

  “The traitor-general,” Jizomaru laughed as he leapt back to his feet. “Oh I thought you would break and I’d have to chase you down. If that damned girl was here then I’d have such an easy day!” He charged Chikao with a sudden burst of speed, his blade slashing for the man’s neck.

  To Chikao’s credit, he was easily the most experienced warrior standing on the field. He was able to backstep quickly, his weapon parrying Jizomaru’s barely. Jizomaru kept on the attack, swift strikes not allowing for Chikao to start an offense.

  With the distraction bought, Misao approached Shizuku quickly. “Still alive, I hope?”

  She nodded, her expression hardening. “Yes. But he’s too fast. I hope you’re coming up with a plan or else none of us are going to see tomorrow.”

  “Of course I have a plan,” they smiled brightly. “Follow my lead?”

  She sighed. They knew that she hated his plans, but at the moment there were few other options. He motioned her to stay back for the moment.

  Fortunately for the two of them, Jizomaru was well and truly distracted. While Chikao was certainly slower, his deft parries and excellent footwork were at least keeping him at bay. Misao dashed forward, throwing a slash at Jizomaru’s side. It was parried quickly, as they predicted, but the purchased space gave Chikao time to throw his foot into Jizomaru’s stomach, pushing him backwards.

  “You really are doing everything you can to keep this from being fun for me,” Jizomaru growled as he straightened up. “You know, usually my prey has the common courtesy to stay the fuck down. The fact that you are not is, frankly, disrespectful.”

  Misao, for once, was not cracking jokes. They charged Jizomaru, pushing his Air Aura as hard as they could. Their blade slashed horizontally for Jizomaru’s throat, and for once the surge of speed seemed to catch their opponent off guard. He had barely had a moment to parry. Misao spun their weapon around, moving with the parry to try to catch him off guard.

  What they did not see coming was that off the parry, he would dispense with technique and simply bring his blade down upon him. Misao cursed, but they were too committed to their own strike to stop the blow. So instead, they committed to finishing the strike. With some good luck, they would be able to take him with them. Their eyes closed, and they allowed peace to wash over them as the world began to slow.

  The pressure they felt against their side was… confusing. It wasn’t the sharp sting of a blade. It was all encompassing, pressing against their entire body. It took a moment for them to realize that it wasn’t a blade pushing into them, but a person. It took another second for them to look to their right and see that it was Shizuku pushing them away. Their eyes widened as they saw Jizomaru’s blade slash through her right elbow and stop against her rib cage.

  “You bitch!” Jizomaru shouted, bringing Misao back into the moment. “Let go! Die and let go!” They realized that Shizuku had grasped Jizomaru’s sword with her left hand and had it in a death grip.

  Misao’s breath caught for a brief moment. Then their blade aimed true. They stabbed forward, their blade catching into his chest. Pinned as he was by Shizuku’s relentless hold, Jizomaru could not meaningfully escape before Misao felt their blade slide into his rib cage and pierce his lungs. They ripped the blade out with a brutal pull, slashing across his heart.

  Misao released the blade as Jizomaru fell, catching the falling Shizuku. “That was horrifically reckless,” they said tersely. “I told you to catch him, not to throw yourself into his sword.”

  Shizuku coughed, and a bit of blood escaped. She was losing too much of it far too fast, and while Chikao returned to command, Misao ripped the sleeve of their kimono to try to tourniquet the missing arm. “You were the one who made a sacrificial attack,” her voice was… teasing. “And between us, I am far more expendable.”

  “Idiot,” they muttered. “Stop talking. You have to preserve your strength.” They saw her starting to fade, and panic set into their chest. “Shizuku-san. Partner, you have to stay with me.” For a moment, desperation hit. They ripped their Obi off, letting their kimono fall open as they desperately wrapped it around her chest to try to staunch the bleeding. “Come on,” they begged. “Stay awake.”

  Shizuku, despite her pain, smiled. “Misao-san. You were a good friend. But please. I am tired. You have a duty to see to the end.” Her eyes closed. Misao placed their head on her chest. She was breathing, but it was faint. Almost nonexistent. He motioned frantically, and a pair of soldiers moved to start helping her off the battlefield.

  Misao looked back to her for only a few moments. Their eyes glistened heavily with unshed tears. They looked down at the limp body of Oda Jizomaru with disgust. What was worse? That Misao had killed someone they once respected as an honored superior? Or that they were so weak that they couldn’t have protected their best friend from his wrath? They cursed the circumstances of this conflict, that it brought Chosen against Chosen.

  “Hey,” the voice of Chikao broke through their internal turmoil. “She’s gonna make it. She’s made of tough stuff. We gotta focus on the here and now, else she’s gonna be real pissed when we end up next to her in the medical tent.”

  Misao took a deep breath through their nose, then nodded. “You’re right. We still need to keep their attention on us until Himari-san’s work is complete. Apologies for allowing my emotions to distract me.” They took their blade across Jizomaru’s neck, severing it from the body.

  As they looked beyond their immediate area and beyond the battlefield, they could see that things were going better than expected. With Jizomaru gone, it seemed that their core leadership had started to falter. Despite their concern, they couldn’t help but smile. The numbers were still well against them, but they had a chance of winning the field outright. If Himari could complete her task successfully, they could earn a total victory over the Usurper’s forces.

  With little else to do, their eyes closed. And they prayed to whatever Kami might hear them that Himari was safe.