.
When Akira opened his eyes, the first thing he felt was the thick smell of burnt wood and bitterness in his throat. His vision blurred, only black silhouettes of half-collapsed walls and an orange sky still glowing from dying flames.
He felt his body being lifted.
Someone was carrying him.
Hurried footsteps cut through the ruins. The sound of snapping wood underfoot echoed below.
"Put him here!" a deep voice ordered.
Akira felt his back touch warm wooden floor. The roof of this house had partly caved in, but one side of the room still sheltered them from the blaze. Thin smoke curled along the ceiling.
Someone knelt beside him.
Rough hands opened his torn clothing, exposing the wounds on his stomach and back.
Akira winced reflexively as coarse cloth touched raw flesh.
"Stay still," the voice said firmly. "Move too much and you die."
Akira forced his eyes wider.
The face wasn't a Kamakura soldier's.
The man had long, carelessly tied hair and a face covered in old scars. His gaze was sharp, but not bloodthirsty, more like someone who had seen too much cruelty.
He shouted without turning. "You nine, search the rest of the village! If anyone's still alive, bring them here!"
Footsteps hurried away.
Akira tried to move his hand. Weak. It barely felt like his own.
"If you plan to kill me," he whispered, "no need to bother treating me."
The man snorted softly. "If I wanted you dead, you'd already be ash with the village."
Akira fell silent.
He turned his head slightly, fighting dizziness.
Yuna.
His heart beat harder.
A few steps away, Yuna lay unconscious. Her face pale, shoulder crudely bandaged. Her chest still rose and fell faintly.
Akira exhaled a near-silent breath of relief.
"She's still alive," the man said, as if reading his mind. "Deep wound, but not fatal. Unlike yours."
Akira stared at him. "Who are you?"
The man finished tying the emergency bandage, then sat cross-legged beside him.
"Hyuga," he answered shortly. "Leader of the group officials like to call bandits because they love eating village taxes."
Akira gave a faint, pale smile. "Bandits."
"You sound disappointed."
"I'm too tired to be surprised."
Hyuga checked his wounds again. "You lost a lot of blood. If we'd come later, you wouldn't have woken up."
"What are you doing here?"
"We followed the Kamakura troops," Hyuga said casually. "Usually after they squeeze a village dry, there's leftover for us to take from them."
Akira understood.
"And this time?" he asked.
"We were too late." Hyuga's tone was flat, but his jaw tightened. "Only ash remained."
His men returned one by one.
"Not many survived," a young man reported. "Some fled to the forest. Those caught were taken away."
"And the dead?" Hyuga asked.
The man bowed his head. "Many."
Hyuga sighed deeply.
Akira closed his eyes for a moment.
He saw Genta's face again. Children's laughter in the morning. Dreams of school and market.
All gone in one afternoon.
"Why did you fight them?" Hyuga asked suddenly.
Akira opened his eyes. "Because they extorted a village that already paid."
Hyuga gave a short, humorless laugh. "That's why we chose to be bandits. We don't rob villages. We rob officials and tribute escorts. Fairer, in our opinion."
"Fair according to whom?" Akira asked quietly.
"According to us," Hyuga said firmly. "Because nothing is truly fair anymore."
Akira stared at the blackened ceiling.
One thing surfaced.
Ryuma.
His body tensed despite the weakness.
"The troops… they took an old man. Long hair, scarred face."
Hyuga nodded. "We saw him. Bound and dragged. They didn't kill him."
Akira swallowed. "He's my teacher. My uncle."
Hyuga looked at him more seriously. "If they didn't kill him on the spot, he's being taken to Kyoto."
Akira shut his eyes briefly.
Kyoto.
He pictured the fortress, grand halls, officials in fine robes, and Ryuma standing bound before them.
"I have to go there," he said softly.
Hyuga snorted. "You can't even stand."
"I still have to go."
"For what? To die with him?"
Akira turned his face away. "So he doesn't die alone."
Hyuga went quiet.
For several seconds only distant collapsing wood sounded.
"I need your help," Akira continued, meeting his eyes. "Take me to Kyoto."
Hyuga laughed loudly this time. "We're bandits. If we march into Kyoto in a group, we'll be arrested before we smell the gate."
"I'm not asking you to enter openly."
"Then how?"
Akira stared sharply. "We'll figure it out."
Hyuga narrowed his eyes. "Your full name?"
Akira paused, then answered, "Akira Kageyori."
Silence fell between them.
Some of Hyuga's men exchanged glances.
"Kageyori?" one repeated.
"The clan that rebelled?"
Hyuga studied Akira longer. "I thought your line was finished."
"We almost were," Akira said.
A thin smile touched Hyuga's lips. "Interesting."
Yuna suddenly groaned softly.
All heads turned.
She opened her eyes slowly, then winced in pain when she tried to move. Her hand instinctively clutched her left shoulder.
"Don't move," Hyuga said quickly, shifting to her side. "Want that wound to reopen?"
Yuna looked around in confusion. "The village…"
No one answered.
The smoke and gray sky said enough.
She closed her eyes briefly, holding something in her chest.
"Akira?" she whispered.
"I'm here," Akira answered weakly.
Yuna turned and saw him lying pale. "You look worse than me."
"I'm always dramatic," Akira replied softly.
Hyuga shook his head slightly. "Both of you nearly died."
He began cleaning Yuna's wound more carefully. "You lost a lot of blood, but no bone damage. You're tough."
Yuna gritted her teeth against the sting. "Ryuma?"
Akira looked at her. "Captured."
Yuna's face hardened.
"We're going to Kyoto," she said without hesitation.
Hyuga glanced between them. "You two can't even walk straight."
"I can," Yuna insisted, though her breath hitched.
"No," Hyuga cut in firmly. "If you die on the road, I'm not delivering corpses to the city gate."
He stood. "We wait. You recover. Then we plan how to get in."
Night fell.
In the half-burned house, they gathered in a circle. Hyuga, his nine men, Akira leaning weakly, and Yuna sitting with her shoulder wrapped in clean cloth.
"We can't enter through the main gate," one of Hyuga's men said. "Tight checks since the rebellion."
"Sewers," another suggested. "Old tunnel on the west side of the fortress."
"It's guarded."
Hyuga looked at Akira. "You know the fortress layout?"
"I went there with my father," Akira said quietly. "Prison cells are usually on the inner north side. Near the armory."
Yuna added, "If they see Ryuma as a provocateur, they won't kill him immediately. They want an example."
"Example of what?" a bandit asked.
"That anyone who resists ends under their sword," Yuna answered coldly.
Hyuga folded his arms. "Then we don't have much time."
The fire outside had died. Only embers remained.
And a plan beginning to form amid the ash.
---
In Kyoto Fortress, the atmosphere was different.
The grand hall was lit by golden lanterns. Polished wooden floors gleamed, silk curtains adorned the walls.
Emperor Go-Horikawa sat on his throne, face calm yet cold.
An officer knelt before him.
"Report from Ogura, Your Majesty. The village refused extra tribute. Troops crushed the resistance. Village burned to the ground. One provocateur captured."
"His name?" Go-Horikawa asked flatly.
"Ryuma Odawara."
The Emperor's brow lifted slightly.
"Bring him."
The hall doors opened.
Ryuma was dragged in, hands bound, clothes stiff with dried blood. Yet his back remained straight.
He was forced to kneel.
Go-Horikawa studied him for a long time.
"Ryuma Odawara," he said softly. "Former samurai of Clan Odawara."
Ryuma was silent.
"The clan that once served Emperor Go-Toba," the Emperor continued. "I remember your name."
Ryuma lifted his gaze slightly. No pleading, no rage. Only weariness.
"You defied my decree," Go-Horikawa said. "And the Shogun of Kamakura's command as well."
Ryuma stayed silent.
"Why?" the Emperor asked.
A few officials at the sides whispered quietly.
Finally Ryuma spoke. His voice was hoarse but clear.
"Because a decree that burns villages is not one worthy of respect."
Several officials flinched.
"Bold," someone muttered.
Go-Horikawa's gaze sharpened. "You served Go-Toba. Then you left. Why?"
Ryuma gave a small, humorless laugh. "Because in the end, they're all the same."
"All?" the Emperor repeated.
"Shogun. Shikken. Emperor." He stared straight ahead. "The people still pay."
The hall fell silent.
Go-Horikawa leaned back slowly.
"So you chose to wander. Masterless."
"No master is worthy," Ryuma answered.
Several guards tightened their grip on their swords.
The Emperor regarded him for a long moment.
"You reject authority. Incite villages. Wound soldiers."
Ryuma did not deny it.
The verdict came in a calm, almost gentle voice.
"Ryuma Odawara, for rebellion and contempt toward imperial decree, you are sentenced to death."