Sacrifice of Self
"Shoulda' known he'd send you," Shihodo sighs, a note of resignation in her quiet voice. She's got her back to him, but she knows that presence. She knows him better than almost anyone.
Hishigi doesn't speak. He can't.
He's lost Muramasa now. He knows they won't meet again. The disease has begun to tear at his own body, and Fubuki is the only reason he hasn't ended it himself. Fubuki is the reason he stayed, the reason he refused Muramasa's invitation to leave the Mibu and never look back.
It's because of Fubuki that he couldn't refuse the Sendai Aka no Ou. If it weren't for him, Hishigi would have died a thousand times before carrying out this order.
He tries to say her name, but his voice is less than breath.
"Save it, kiddo," she stops him, turning to look him in the eye. "I ain't gonna fight you. You do what you gotta do. I fucked up, shoulda killed him when he told me to, but I didn't and that's on my head."
There are too many memories in his head, too many images of sitting by her side and listening to every stupid joke she could spit out. Hishigi remembers learning from her when he was young, seeing the world in ways he'd never imagined. And now, for the crime of allowing one of his dearest friends to leave this place in one piece, he has to hurt her.
His fingers clench around Hakuya's hilt, and his heart pounds heavily in his chest. The pain that has become a constant now – a spike driving into his left eye, fire in his blood, ice in his bones – reminds him he's a dead man walking.
Hishigi wonders if it would be easier to do this if she fought. He doesn't think so. There's no world in which he wants to harm her – and no way he can get out of it now.
"He needs you, dumbass. Don't fuckin' leave him alone over me," Shihodo snaps. "Your reconstruction bullshit ain't gonna work. I know you're dyin' now, I can see it in your goddamn face, but you've still got shit to do. I already failed. Do your job, Hishigi. Make it look good."
Nothing has ever been as agonizing as drawing his blade against her like this.
"I'm – "
"Don't you dare apologize to me, boy," she cuts him off, and her voice is cracking ice.
He doesn't know if she's trying to provoke him or trying to steel herself for the attack. Either way, it hurts. Hakuya feels like it weighs about a thousand pounds, and Hishigi wishes he could drop it and run. But she's right. He can't leave Fubuki. And he can't spare Shihodo.
Hishigi's sword rises, and he feels his heart break as Shihodo's hand twitches toward hers… and then falls back to her side. She faces him head on, doesn't move an inch until blades of pure energy cut her down. She crumples, broken and bleeding, and she looks at him with fading eyes that know exactly why he did it. Shihodo understands sacrifices of everything you are, the sacrifices made for those most important, better than anyone.
Hishigi knows how much damage he's done, but he also knows he hasn't killed her. Shihodo will survive down here, waiting for a kinder wind to blow through Mibu territory. He doesn't think he'll ever speak to her again, and he doesn't deserve to – that's his punishment for the horrific thing he's done.
As Hishigi turns away from her broken body, unable to look at her for another moment, he sees the beginning of her graveyard for the fallen. The victims of a reconstruction project that Hishigi knows will never be completed are remembered here – the ones who left bodies behind are buried, the others represented by little markers that Shihodo has crafted.
Shihodo… I am so sorry.