Blood painted the stones.
The rain had turned red.
Michael knelt in silence, one tonfa still clenched in his fist, the other lying cracked beside the fallen sakura tree. Yamura lay propped against its trunk, breathing shallowly. His white robes soaked in blood, his hair loose, face pale — yet serene.
"You could've killed me," Michael muttered.
Yamura coughed, a soft wheeze that carried no pain, only weight.
"I didn't want to kill my student. Even if the world sees a monster."
Michael looked away, jaw clenched. "I stabbed you."
"You did," Yamura nodded. "And now... You must decide if that made you free."
Silence.
Yamura reached into his sleeve, pulling out a small scroll. He handed it to Michael with trembling fingers.
"It's the final stance... of Flow Break. Only one has ever mastered it. I never used it in full."
Michael accepted it, fingers shaking. "Why give it to me?"
Yamura smiled faintly. "Because the next monster... may listen to you."
The old master slowly straightened his back. Despite the blood, despite the pain, he sat up in seiza, the ceremonial kneel of the warrior.
His hands rested on his thighs. His posture — perfect.
Then he unsheathed a short ceremonial blade from beneath his robe.
Michael's eyes widened. "No... don't."
"I must," Yamura said quietly. "This is how it ends. With honor."
He drew the blade across his abdomen slowly, controlled.
Michael stepped forward, tears in his eyes, unsheathing one tonfa. "I understand."
Yamura closed his eyes. "Do it clean."
Michael raised the blade.
A single stroke.
Swift. Silent.
Yamura's head fell forward, into his lap — his expression peaceful.
Michael dropped to his knees, forehead to the blood-soaked ground. "Forgive me... master."
Hours later — Edge of the forest
Mai, Tiffany, and Duncan arrived to find the place quiet. Blood still soaked the ground. The sakura tree bent in the wind.
Michael stood alone, back to them, scroll tucked into his belt.
Mai stepped forward. "Is he...?"
Michael nodded once. "He died standing. Eyes closed. Spine straight."
Tiffany lowered her head. "A warrior's death."
Duncan clenched his fists. "The last of the old masters."
Michael didn't turn. "No. The world doesn't need masters anymore. Only survivors."
He walked past them without another word.
Mai watched him go, unsure if what she saw was strength or regret.
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