03-03-1650
"So, this is where I meet my end?"
Satoshi's voice echoed hollow against the ancient trees of the western forest. Blood seeped through his white hakama, staining the fabric where he clutched his side.
"The tale of Satoshi Ono, youngest hatamoto in all of Japan, comes to an end."
He laughed, a broken, bitter sound that dissolved into a wet cough. Moonlight filtered through the canopy above, painting silver streaks across the clearing where he knelt. This place. Of all the places in Japan, fate had led him here.
His tanto lay before him on the moss-covered stone, the blade still crusted with dried blood. Her blood. Inoue's delicate throat had opened like flower petals beneath that edge, and he couldn't remember, there was only a moment between drinking the wine and holding her corpse.
"Forgive me, Inoue, my love." His fingers trembled as they wrapped around the tanto's hilt. The same blade that killed his betrothed. The same blade that would now attempt to restore his honor. "Forgive me, and may our souls together find peace."
The ritual demanded precision. A single cut, left to right across the abdomen. There was no room for hesitation, no weaknesses.
He drew the blade.
Heaved a breath that tasted of sour and death.
And with a swift motion, plunged the tanto into his abdomen, dragging it in the ceremonial arc.
"Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr."
The sound tore from his throat, raw and excruciating. Pain exploded through his torso like a burning sensation, spreading rapidly like waves that threatened to drown consciousness itself. His vision blurred as the forest tilted.
The world narrowed to a pinpoint of silver moonlight before him as he slumped onto the hard stone. Warm and wet blood pooled beneath him, soaking into earth that had drunk the blood of raiders three months prior.
His vision faded.
And darkness swallowed him whole.
---
MOMENTS EARLIER
Pant. Pant. Pant. Pant.
"He's over there!"
"Kussō, I've been spotted." Satoshi cursed between heavy breaths, his lungs burning as he vaulted over a fallen log.
Twenty-three years old. The youngest hatamoto to ever serve at the Shogun's right hand. Now branded a Ronin, masterless, hunted, and condemned to death.
"How did it come to this?", Satoshi thought.
His feet pounded against the forest floor, muscle memory guiding him through a terrain he knew better than the lines of his own palm. Behind him, a thunder of pursuit, dozens of samurai bearing the Shogun's mon chased after him, their torches cutting through the darkness like angry spirits.
"How did it come to this?!" The words burst from him between gasps. "I, the youngest and most promising hatamoto, now a traitor. What treachery is this?"
But he knew the answer. It stared at him from the blade clutched in his right hand.
His tanto, with its intricate crane etchings along the spine, the gift from the Shogun himself after the Battle of the Western Wall. The same blade had opened Inoue's throat while Satoshi's own hands held the hilt.
He couldn't remember doing it.
"Don't let him escape!"
"The Shogun wants him, dead or alive!"
"Surround the western perimeter!"
Satoshi's hand instinctively tightened around the tanto at his side. The blade felt wrong in his grip, corrupted somehow. He'd drawn it a multiple times, but never had it felt so... heavy.
Inoue's blood won't wash off.
He stumbled, caught himself against a tree. His reflection stared back from a small stream, wild-eyed, disheveled, nothing like the decorated warrior who'd stood at the Shogun's right hand mere days ago.
He'd been perfect. His future bright as the rising sun. The Battle of the Western Wall had cemented his legend as the youngest hatamoto in history, savior of the Shogun himself, vanquisher of the blacksail raiders from across the sea.
He was respected, wealthy, loved by all.
And by Inoue. Beautiful Inoue with her gentle smile and reddened cheeks.
The Shogun's blessing on their union had been the highest honor imaginable.
Then why did I kill her?
No. He didn't, he couldn't have.
"Keep moving," he hissed to himself, pushing off the tree. "Find the truth and clear your name."
But the memory haunted every step.
The wedding eve had been perfect. Lanterns glowed like captured stars across the palace gardens. Sake flowed freely. Laughter echoed through the halls. Satoshi had never felt such joy, such certainty in his path.
And at the end of the ceremony, he'd been alone with Inoue in their chambers for the first time as a couple. She'd sat across from him, radiant in her ceremonial robes, her eyes bright with happiness and nervous anticipation.
"I asked the maid to save the best drink for last," he'd said, pouring the crimson liquid into two cups. His hands had been steady then.
He'd handed her a cup, raising his own.
"Kampai!"
The cups clinked together with a crystalline ring. He'd downed his in one gulp, a sweet chill spreading through his chest. Inoue had smiled, bringing hers to her lips with practiced grace, taking a small, delicate sip when...
He froze.
His muscles locked, stiffened. His neck jerked violently to the side in a pattern he couldn't control.
CRASH
The cup slipped from his fingers, breaking into pieces as it crashed against the floor, sake spilling across the tatami mat.
"Satoshi-san?" Inoue's voice carried concern. "Are you okay?"
He tried to speak, but nothing came out. His body moved without permission, hands right hand reaching for the tanto at his left side.
No, stop. What are you doing?
But his hands wouldn't listen. And then, his mind went blank as his body acted, pulling the blade free while moving toward Inoue with a terrible purpose.
Her eyes widened. "Satoshi?"
Then came her scream. High, piercing,yet cut short.
When consciousness returned, he was kneeling on the floor. Warm liquid covered his hands. Inoue lay cradled in his arms, her throat opened, blood spreading beneath them both.
"No, No, no, NO!..." The tanto rested in his grip, slick with crimson.
Hurried footsteps thundered down the hall, bursting the door burst open. Guards flooded in, freezing at the scene before them in one breath of horrified silence.
Chaos soon followed.
"Seize him!"
"The Lady Inoue..."
"Murderer!"
"Inform the Shogun!'
Satoshi fled. What else could he do? Escaping through the palace, over the walls, into the night. Behind him, the alarm bells rang, their toll spreading across the city like a plague.
Within minutes, the entire palace guard hunted for his head.
Within hours, all of Japan.
Now he ran through the same western forest where he'd earned his glory. The terrain was familiar, every path, every hidden trail. He'd fought here, bled here, triumphed here against impossible odds.
How ironic that it would be his tomb.
His legs finally gave out. He crashed to his knees in the clearing where he'd made his final stand against the blacksail raiders. Where the Shogun himself had clasped his shoulder and named him hero.
"I can't..." His voice broke. "There's no running from this."
Maybe he could find the truth. Expose whoever had done this, controlled him somehow. But his body had surrendered, each breath now felt like lifting a mountain.
The sounds of pursuit grew closer, torches flickered through the trees.
Satoshi looked up at the stars, wondering if Inoue could see them from wherever her spirit had gone.
"This is where my greatest victory became my doom," he whispered.
He drew the tanto one final time.
But I didn't do it.
That truth burned in his chest, absolute and yet, useless. He hadn't murdered his beloved. But his hands had held the blade. His body had stood over her corpse. The evidence was written in blood and steel, irrefutable.
He fell to his knees.
"So this is where I meet my end?" The words emerged steady now, calm. The panic had burned away, leaving only acceptance.
Behind him, armor clinked. And multiple footsteps approached. The samurai had gotten closer.
"Satoshi Ono!" The voice rang out with authority. Commander Takeda, his former brother-in-arms. "Come with us and face justice!". Takeda ordered walking closer.
Justice. The word was ash on Satoshi's tongue.
He didn't turn around. Instead, he closed his eyes, savoring the taste of his meteoric rise and catastrophic fall, of Inoue's smile and her final, confused whisper.
"There is no justice for me Takeda-san, but please, allow me this"
Takeda had been his closest friend all through the military, deep down he didn't believe Satoshi to be guilty, but an order had been given.
Still he permitted Satoshi to choose his own death.
He clenched his right fist upwards, signalling a halt.
Satoshi signed exhaustingly.
"So, this is where I meet my end?"