CHAPTER 5

Death was not as pleasant as Mikazuki envisioned. Sweet release was within arm's reach, but before he could grasp Death's cold skeletal hand, something snatched him back. It was maddening and excruciatingly painful. And as his soul was rent in half, tugged back and forth between the refuge of death and the torment of life, scream after ear-splintering scream tore from his throat. After all Mikazuki had sacrificed… After all the torture he'd willingly put himself through in the promise of eternal peace… How could Death be so cruel?

Mikazuki's eyes fluttered open, his chest seizing painfully as he struggled to suck in a ragged breath. Somewhere in the room a fire sizzled and popped, engulfing the space with its light and warmth. For the first time in ages, Mikazuki felt clean. He was tucked safely underneath a heavy blanket, freshly washed and smelling of newly blossomed sunflowers.

For a moment, Mikazuki wondered if this was what Heaven looked like. If so, it was decidedly disappointing, filled with the mortal pain he was so desperately trying to escape. But as he lay flat on his back, on top of a surprisingly comfortable bed, he realized that the ceiling he was staring at looked oddly familiar.

"You're finally awake," Izo said, his voice drifting over to where Mikazuki lay. "Any longer and I'd have had to start planning your funeral."

Mikazuki turned his head, squinting at the fuzzy image of his Master sitting by his bedside.

"How did I get here?" Mikazuki asked weakly, forcing Izo's face to come into focus.

"How indeed," Izo replied casually. "It's an interesting story really. You arrived on my doorstep half dead, in the arms of a Yari named, Nihongou. He was accompanied by his Mistress, Lady Suizaku, who was so distraught by your condition that she had to delay her return to battle by a full day."

Mikazuki sighed wearily. "So close," he grumbled.

"You sound disappointed," Izo answered sarcastically. "Considering the condition you returned to me in, I'm assuming death was the plan?"

The sage's tone frightened Mikazuki. Izo was furious, and his attempt to keep his anger in check was somehow more terrifying than when he was yelling and screaming.

"I don't know what you mean," Mikazuki answered carefully.

"Is that so," Izo said, glancing down at the piece of parchment laid across his lap. "Well, let's see what the Healer had to say. Perhaps that will refresh your memory." Izo cleared his throat, scanning the document as he read. "The patient is suffering from a debilitating combination of exhaustion, dehydration and malnutrition. I'd estimate a loss of approximately 22 pounds of muscle weight since last physical." Izo looked up, feigning disbelief. "Impressive." He returned his attention to the paper and started to read once more. "In addition to the massive infection originating in the left thigh muscle, there's evidence of several untreated injuries, to include a fractured left ankle, a dislocated shoulder improperly reset, and torn ligaments in the right knee."

"Master, I…"

"Not done," Izo said sharply, his gaze working its way down the parchment. "The Healer goes on to write: The injury to the left thigh appears to be approximately 4-6 weeks old. It was most likely self-treated, evident by the uneven stitch pattern. There were also signs of healing despite the wound being torn back open and re-sewn at least a dozen times. Due to the patient's already diminished health, infection took hold, turning the wound gangrenous over the course of several days. The rot was so deep that the bone from the knee to the top of the hip turned black all the way through. Hitoshi finishes with a note here at the bottom: The infection alone would have caused excruciating pain. How the patient was able to function in this condition is both remarkable and alarming. Final Recommendation: Patient should be placed on inactive status for 6 months to a year."

"A year!" Mikazuki exclaimed breathlessly, fighting to sit up in the bed again. "But that's…!"

Izo's magic engulfed the room like a tsunami, the weight of it forcing Mikazuki back down onto the bed. The Saniwa sage got to his feet, dropping the parchment onto the empty chair. Linking his hands behind his back, Izo walked slowly to where Mikazuki lay. He stared down at the Sword, his emerald gaze narrowing menacingly.

"You lied to me," Izo said in a tight voice. "And you purposely hid your condition from your Campaign Commander for weeks! You disguised your weight loss by adding layers underneath your clothes, and you intentionally avoided medical treatment despite several serious injuries."

"My injuries were insignificant compared to the others," Mikazuki defended, turning away from Izo's intense stare. "There were soldiers who needed a Healer far more than I. And yes, I missed a few meals here and there, but you know how campaigns are. Food is a luxury."

"You all but stopped eating, Mikazuki! And according to Nihongou, you were constantly giving your food rations to other soldiers. Christ, you should see how you look right now! Seeing you stripped of your clothes is… disturbing. You are completely emaciated! Every single one of your bones is on morbid display through your paper thin skin!"

"It can't be that bad," Mikazuki muttered irritably.

The sage's eyes flashed dangerously. "Not that bad?" he asked mockingly. "You're so malnourished that your bones are as brittle as twigs. I could take hold of your arm right now and snap it in two! Here," he continued, grabbing Mikazuki's wrist, "shall I prove it to you?"

Mikazuki tried to pull his hand back, but Izo refused to release him.

"You see," Izo snickered. "You can't even break my hold."

Mikazuki hissed in pain and frustration. Angry tears filled his eyes, threatening to fall at any moment.

"Do you want to die?" Izo asked, letting go of Mikazuki's arm. "Is life so terrible that total self-destruction is your only option? I know you're in a bad place right now, but however painful your heartbreak might be, death is not the answer."

"You think this is about a broken heart?" Mikazuki bit out.

"What else am I supposed to think?" Izo answered. "Rather than talk about what you're feeling, you shut everyone out. Maybe if you tell me what's really going on, I'd have a better understanding of how to help you."

"I don't want your help."

Izo grit his teeth in quiet rage. "Your selfishness is astounding. The Healer almost died saving your life! Is this how you seek to repay him?"

"I didn't ask to be saved," Mikazuki hissed. "I didn't ask for Hitoshi-sama or anyone else to help me! And if you think my near death experience has somehow opened my eyes to the need for such assistance, then I'm sorry to disappoint."

"Are you so determined to die?"

"You already know the answer to that question," Mikazuki replied. "I hardly think saying the words aloud would make a difference."

Izo inhaled deeply, blowing out a steadying breath. "Fine," he answered solemnly. "If it's death you want, then death you shall have."

Mikazuki's eyes went wide with surprise. "You mean…"

"I have no intentions of murdering you, Mikazuki. But will I not condemn you to this slow torture. I shall give you the release you seek. I will take back the gift of life I bestowed upon you and return your spirit to the sword."

"That's possible?" Mikazuki asked, hope fluttering precariously in his chest. "You can do such a thing?"

Izo sighed heavily. "I can take your life in the same manner that I gave it."

"And you would do that for me?"

"I would do anything to make sure this doesn't happen again. And I have a feeling that if left to your own devices, you will do something to yourself far worse."

"Thank you," Mikazuki whispered.

"Don't thank me yet," Izo replied sternly. "I have conditions."

"I'll do whatever you want," Mikazuki insisted. "Anything."

"Good," the sage replied, "because from this moment on you are under my care. I will personally see to your full recovery."

Mikazuki frowned. "You're going to force me to recover before you put me back into the sword? What sense does that make?!"

"You said you would abide by my conditions. Have you changed your mind?"

"Of course not, it's just…"

"Then it's settled. All missions have been suspended until further notice, and I've left Yoshi-kun to handle the expedition schedules."

"But what about the war?" Mikazuki insisted. "You can't just abandon the mission! You are the Lord Commander!"

"Which is why I've contact Dahlia-sama," Izo replied. "She and her Swords will cover our territory and fight in our stead."

"This is ridiculous, Master! Surely you can see that! Why would you make such sacrifices on my account?"

"Because you are worth it," Izo answered matter-of-factly.

"B-but…"

"The decision has already been made," Izo continued, "and all the necessary actions taken. You're in my personal care as of now, starting with an early lunch."

As if right on cue, the door opened and in walked the cook with a tray of food in her wrinkled hands. She set it on the table for Izo's inspection. While the cook helped Mikazuki sit up in the bed, Izo removed everything on the tray except a bowl of soup and a chunk of bread. When Mikazuki was settled, Izo brought over the tray and set it on his lap.

"Eat," the sage ordered.

Mikazuki stared down at the small meal, and although his stomach was screaming for food at this point, the idea of choking it down made him nauseous.

"I said eat," Izo repeated, dismissing the cook before taking his seat again. "You're going to eat every bit of it, and just to make sure you do, I'm going to watch."

Mikazuki swallowed nervously, picking up the moist piece of bread and tearing off a small chunk. The warm sweetness exploded in his mouth, causing his stomach to growl impatiently. Mikazuki devoured every drop of the soup and every crumb of bread.

"May I have some more?" Mikazuki asked, his belly emphasizing the request.

"Unfortunately, no," Izo replied. "If you try to eat too much food at once, you'll end up making yourself sick. The Healer recommends a small meal every 3 hours. For the next two weeks, you will do nothing but eat, sleep and go to the bathroom. I've assigned two servants to assist me with your physical therapy, so four times a day they, or myself, will come and work the muscles in your legs. According to Hitoshi, this will prevent them from atrophying. Once you've regained at least a quarter of the weight you've lost, we'll increase your portion sizes and begin allowing you to move about on your own."

"Is this really necessary, Master? I understand your concern, but it's not like I'm crippled."

Izo's gaze narrowed in warning. "You have no say in this," he said coldly. "You lost the right to decide what's in your own best interest the moment you allowed yourself to deteriorate to such a state."

"Deteriorate?" Mikazuki scoffed. "I hardly think it's that serious. I'm a bit sore, but nothing that a real meal and a day or so of rest won't cure. You'll soon realize that halting all operations was completely unnecessary."

"Is that so?" Izo answered. "How about this?" he said, moving roughly 20 feet from Mikazuki's bed. "If you can walk to where I'm standing without assistance, I'll release you from my care and return you to the sword immediately."

"Deal," Mikazuki said, sliding the tray off his lap and folding back the covers.

He placed his feet on the heated tile floor and stood slowly. Looking up at his Master, he smiled confidently and took his first step…

The ground shifted violently beneath him, the floor rushing up to meet his face. Izo didn't even try to catch him, letting Mikazuki slam into the ground with such force that the air swooshed out of his lungs.

Mikazuki tried to get up, but his arms felt like noodles, too weak to support the weight of a feather. He lay on the floor, his cheek pressed to one of the large square tiles.

Izo snickered bitterly. "Nothing a good meal and a few days of rest won't fix, right?"

Mikazuki bristled with anger and embarrassment, the sarcasm in his Master's voice nothing short of infuriating. To make matters worse, Mikazuki could feel the tears starting to leak from the corners of his eyes.

"You've made your point," Mikazuki said in a choked voice. "Now leave."

"At least let me help you up," Izo replied, the shuffling of his feet drawing closer.

"No," Mikazuki hissed. "Just go."

"You can't expect me to leave you like this."

"If I can't get myself back into that bed, then I deserve to stay right here on this floor."

"Now you're just being dramatic," Izo answered drolly.

"Could you at least grant me some modicum of pride?" Mikazuki asked, his voice trembling uncontrollably. "I will do as you say, Master. I will eat when you say eat, I will sleep when you say sleep, and I will shit when you say shit! All I ask is that you allow me this one request!"

All the muscles in Mikazuki's body clenched as he waited for Izo's reply. He was on the verge of breaking down, and he didn't want any witnesses. Once again the scuffling of feet echoed in Mikazuki's ears, but this time the footsteps moved away from him. When the door clicked shut, Mikazuki counted backwards from ten. Then, and only then, did he allow his tears to fall.