The kick shot upward like a fired shell, packed with Chakra and gathered killing intent. A terrifying, heavy kacha sound cut off Ryoma Tokuma's final scream.
All sounds stopped at once. His head snapped back at an unnatural angle, his neck breaking with a sharp crack as it was severed instantly.
His head nearly tore free from his neck, hanging back with only skin holding it. Those wide Byakugan eyes lost all light, frozen in regret and despair.
Blood poured from his broken neck and mouth, spreading quickly across the floor. Ryoma Tie withdrew his foot without another glance, as if he had only crushed a mad beast.
Pata… pata…
Blood splashed against the mottled stone wall and slowly ran down along the cracks. In the corridor, only the sound of dripping blood remained, striking the floor again and again like the opening notes of a long overdue reckoning.
The heavy iron door slammed shut with a loud clang, and the echo rolled through the deep corridor for a long time. The last trace of light and sound was cut off by the door, and the two figures were swallowed by thick darkness behind it. Silence finally closed in and erased everything.
Ryoma Tokuma watched as the door sealed off that final sliver of light, his eyes fixed on the place where it vanished. The tension that had locked his body tight finally snapped. His whole frame sagged as if his strength had been pulled out.
He nearly collapsed, his shoulders dropping as he leaned hard against the wall beside him. The stone was icy cold and slick with moss, biting through his clothes. His breath came out in a rough rush.
He exhaled deeply, almost greedily, as if trying to empty his chest of all the pressure, fear, and the sickening smell of blood. Guilt, fear, and relief tangled together and threatened to drown him. But it was done, and no matter what came next, his part in this filthy task was finally over.
At the moment his guard was lowest, a voice spoke softly behind him.
"Very tired?"
The voice still carried a trace of a young man's clear tone, but beneath it lay a coldness that did not match the age. Ryoma Tokuma kept his eyes closed and did not even bother to lift his lids, too exhausted and numb to notice anything strange.
"Tired," he replied vaguely, forcing a smile that looked worse than crying. "Of course I am. They are our own clan."
The voice paused for a breath, then spoke again with the same calm tone. "If you knew they were your own clan, why did you still do it?"
Ryoma Tokuma remained with his eyes closed, as if lost in his own excuses, muttering like someone talking in a dream. "Because we had no choice."
The words had barely left his mouth when a sharp sense of wrongness brushed across his tired nerves. It was faint, but it cut like a snake's tongue. Something was off.
This time, the voice was no longer that youthful sound. It had become low, hoarse, and disturbingly familiar.
"No. You had a choice."
The voice continued from behind him, as if finally understanding something. Whatever emotion it held settled into a flat calm. "We are the ones with no choice."
In an instant, the hair on Ryoma Tokuma's body stood on end as he snapped his eyes open. The veins around his eyes bulged violently, and Chakra surged out of him on instinct. He did not even have time to turn fully and see who stood behind him.
He struck backhanded with all the strength and fear he could gather, unleashing a Gentle Fist palm strike that tore through the air toward the sound behind him. The attack screamed with force as it flew.
At the same moment he turned, the figure behind him dropped low, moving smoothly as if every step had been predicted. The deadly palm wind skimmed past the scalp. As the figure ducked, a palm had already been driven forward.
The Chakra on that palm was not wild, but tightly compressed and icy cold, carrying open killing intent. The blow landed with a dull, shocking thud that rang in the silent corridor.
The palm struck squarely into Ryoma Tokuma's unguarded abdomen. The Chakra of the Gentle Fist burst into his body and detonated inside him. His eyes bulged outward as blood filled the whites, and it felt as if a red hot iron had been stabbed into his gut and twisted.
His flowing Chakra pathways shattered in an instant, and his internal organs were crushed and torn. He coughed violently as his body folded like a boiled shrimp. A mouthful of thick blood mixed with organ fragments sprayed from his lips.
A huge force followed from his abdomen, and his body was hurled backward with no control at all. He slammed into the cold stone wall at the end of the corridor, and the impact made the entire wall shudder. Clear sounds of bones breaking rang out in the air.
His body slid down the wall as if boneless, dragging a long, bloody smear behind it. He finally collapsed on the floor in a heap. Blood spilled from his mouth as he struggled to lift his head.
"How... is this possible..."
His vision swam with pain as a figure slowly walked toward him. With a burst of smoke, the disguise of the "young guard" fell away as the Transformation Technique ended. The figure stepped out of the smoke.
Short, sharp hair that did not fit the Ryoma Clan at all came into view, along with a cold face that made Ryoma Tokuma's pupils shrink. His blood felt like it had frozen.
"Ryoma Tie?" Ryoma Tokuma's voice shook violently from shock and internal injury. "How can it be you? Why?"
Ryoma Tie, a Branch Family Jonin, a contemporary of Yuhi Kurenai, Sarutobi Asuma, and Might Guy. If one of the guards who entered with Ryoma was Ryoma Tie, then the other person who went through that door with Ryoma had to be someone else entirely.
A name that filled him with terror surfaced in his mind, throwing his thoughts into chaos. As he froze in that realization, the light in front of him was suddenly blocked.
A tall shadow loomed over him, cutting off the weak lamp light in the distance. Ryoma Tokuma looked up and met Ryoma Tie's emotionless face. Those eyes, filled with killing intent, held the clear gaze of the Pure Byakugan.
His breath caught as survival instinct took over. He planted his hands on the ground and tried to crawl up to fight back. Before he could move, Ryoma Tie lifted his foot and brought it down on Ryoma Tokuma's feet.
Bones cracked in rapid succession, sharp and chilling. Ryoma Tokuma screamed as his ankles were slowly crushed underfoot. The pain made his body convulse violently, and all resistance vanished as he collapsed like mud on the floor.
"Why? Ryoma Tie, have you gone mad? What are you doing?" Ryoma Tokuma howled in pain and confusion, his voice warped and filled with wrath.
"Doing what?" Ryoma Tie replied calmly as he crouched down and met his gaze. "Doing what you did to Takao Hyuga."
"And what they have always done to us."
The naked killing intent in his words made Ryoma Tokuma finally understand. Terror wiped all other expression from his face. This was a reckoning, a reckoning by the Branch Family against the Otsutsuki Clan Main Family.
"No, no, you cannot do this," he cried as he shook his head wildly. "Ryoma Tie, we are the same clan. We trained together when we were young."