We walked in silence, not out of choice, but because we were too tired to speak. Every breath I took had a hint of ash and ozone, remnants of explosions.
My body hurt. My ribs and legs ached, and even my spirit felt weighed down. Saiko was in worse shape. The skin on her arms was cracked, thin lines of glowing red crawling toward her shoulders. She tried to hide it under her sleeves, but the faint shimmer of energy gave it away.
"Are you okay?" I finally asked.
She managed a half-smile. "Yeah, yeah. This happens when I push too hard. I'll get it fixed when we get back."
"That doesn't look like something you just… fix."
She wiggled her fingers and laughed weakly. "Trust me. This isn't even the worst it's been."
The cracks pulsed softly as she moved, the energy was still flickering under her skin. It looked painful.
Then there was Genkei, walking ahead of us. He was quiet, with a blade slung across his back and not a scratch on him. His uniform was neat, and he breathed steadily.
Saiko noticed him too. "You know, Genkei, I'm starting to think you're not human."
He glanced back. "Why?"
"Because we look like we just survived an exorcism, and you're walking like you're heading to class."
I agreed. "She has a point."
"I trained for endurance," he replied simply. "Gravebinding requires it."
I looked at his sword. "About that… those phantom cuts you used back there. I've never seen anything like it."
Saiko crossed her arms carefully, cautious of her injuries. "Yeah, I was going to ask, too. What grave are you even bound to?"
Genkei stopped. A light breeze carried bits of dust past us as he turned. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer.
Finally, he said, "The grave I'm bound to belongs to Sanada Yukimura."
I was taken aback. "Sanada Yukimura? The samurai from the Sengoku era?"
He nodded. "Also known as Sanada Nobushige. The Last Sengoku Hero."
Saiko let out a low whistle. "Okay, that's kind of insane. You're bound to him?"
"He was known as the 'Number One Warrior in Japan' during the Siege of Osaka," Genkei said. His tone was full of quiet respect, not pride. "They say his spirit never found rest — his will to fight lasted beyond his body. When I found his grave, I could feel it. His hatred for defeat. His refusal to fall."
"And that's what gives you those phantom cuts?" I asked.
He shook his head. "The cuts are a manifestation of his battle instinct. They strike faster than the eye can see, almost before or after the real blade swings. They're unpredictable because they don't belong to the present. They're part of the swordsman's will, not limited by time."
Saiko blinked. "Okay, now you're just showing off."
Genkei's mouth curved slightly. "It's not showing off if it nearly kills you to control it."
I recalled how calm he stayed in battle, how precise every move was. "You're serious, aren't you?"
"Yes. Every time I use the grave's power, Yukimura's will tries to take over mine. If I lose focus, I become nothing but a blade in his hand."
"I'd be tense too if some 400-year-old warrior was in my head all day," Saiko said.
Genkei's lips twitched. "He's quieter now. Sometimes."
Despite everything, I couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and envy. His control, his composure, how he walked out of that fight looking barely winded while Saiko and I struggled to stay on our feet. I wanted that strength. But every time I thought about getting closer to them, the fear returned — that forming bonds would weaken me as a human.
Still, it didn't feel bad walking beside them.
"We should go back to Benikaen," I said quietly. "Arata and Tenmyō are probably waiting for a report."
Genkei nodded. "I'll open the gate this time."
He raised his hands. "By steel and spirit, cut the line between worlds — Benikaen, awaken." The air split neatly, creating a red gate. No distortion, no static, just perfect symmetry.
"Wow," I said. "You actually nailed it. Unlike someone who dropped us on a rooftop last time."
Saiko pointed at me. "That was my first try! There were variables!"
Genkei stepped through first, ignoring her.
Saiko huffed and followed. "Next time I'm doing it again, and I'll land us in exactly the right spot."
I smirked as I glanced back at the empty street, the faint flicker of the world. "Sure, Saiko. I'll believe it when I see it."
Then I stepped through the gate. The last thing I heard before the world folded away was her yelling, "It was ONE time!"
The red light faded, scattering into the night like dying embers.