Disclaimer: I do not own Taimanin series.

Between The Line - 05

The darkness behind the eyelids wasn't as seclusive as he thought. To his surprise, he could still feel everything around him.

The smell of burning coal filled his nostril followed by the odor of hot steels. The gentle humming sound from a sunken hearth reached his ears. His skin felt the warmth floating around the fireplace. A floor cushion hugged his kneeling leg with care.

The left eye opened, Kotaro took in the sight of a small room. It was a place he has never been to, it gave out a traditional vibe, far away from the modern feelings Kotaro often recalls from his home.

Clang!

He turned to the hammering noise and saw a figure tending to an alloyed object by the forge. That was where the smell of burning coals came from.

Clang!

They appeared human, he couldn't get a view of their face as their back was facing him. That person repeatedly raised the hammer and knocked the object into shape. A blacksmith?

Wait a minute, Kotaro began to wonder about himself. What was he doing here? What was this place? How did he end up here?

And who was that person by the forge?

"Why?"

Kotaro startled as that person finally spoke up. Their voice was roughed, deepened and cracked by the flow of time. The tone seemed to bear an emotional burden. Based on the forging tools lying around and his voice, Kotaro took a guess. The person seemed to be a blacksmith who has entered his twilight years.

"Why did you try to save a demon?"

Demon? He was talking about Ingrid?

"Why did you make the choice that ends up getting yourself in danger by helping an enemy?"

The next hit of their hammer echoed louder.

"Was it worth it?"

They wanted his answers. Kotaro wasn't sure of how he should respond to the sudden questions.

"You are…..?"

For starter, he needed a name.

CLANG!

They had the tool raised higher and thrust it down the lengthy steel piece with a heavy blow. Kotaro covered his ears in time before the impact strikes and causes vibrations to rush through his body. That action was on purpose, he took this as the mysterious figure didn't want to have the questions answered by another question. Conversational manner didn't have a place in this intimidated atmosphere.

"Because…" Kotaro inhaled shortly. "Because that is what a Taimanin should do."

"Saving a demon is never part of the Code."

"That's true in the past. But through time, the Code has changed. There are good and bad demons out there."

"An excuse to turn away from a world overrun by grotesque creatures of the Dark World."

Kotaro couldn't deny what had been said. It was the current state of the world, it was already the way it was before humanity reaches the modern age. But addressing all of them as grotesque creatures might have been overdoing it.

The old man dropped the hammer and placed his work in a furnace.

"Do you not think this happened because we have failed to stop them from invading our world since the ancient time?"

"….."

"Or was it because we let sympathy took away our reasons and gave up in the hope that human and demon can live together in peace?"

"….."

"Is it the way of the Taimanin now? Have we all grown so soft in the reign of the demons?"

"No, Sir. There are no demons ruling over us." Kotaro answered. "That is not the way I have learned."

"What have you learned?"

"The goal of Taimanin is the pursuit of justice and protection of the peace in our world. We fight especially against the corrupted influence of evil and those that benefit from it. Till this day, we keep going with that in mind."

The old man let out a snort.

"It seems like you only recited words from a book and unable to grasp the true values of being a Taimanin, young man."

"Then please enlighten me." Kotaro said. "What is the Taimanin's values you speak of?"

"Demon extermination. Human protection. Only seek the strength to serve the goal. Those are the ways to help us thriving."

Kotaro frowned after listening to those words.

"Disagree. Those outdated values don't work anymore."

At the instant respond, fire within the furnace rose in fierceness.

"Those are the reasons Taimanins exists. It is our duty to actively seek power to wipe out the demons and free human from their evils."

"If the Taimanins continue to stand by those reasons and constantly wage wars against the demons, we will eventually cease to exist. Not because the demons would outnumber and destroy us. It's because we would do that to ourselves."

The old man turned his head slightly half-way. What Kotaro had spoke intrigued him.

"If we were only focused on wiping out the demons, we would be no different from the worst of them, OR US. By only seeking strength, we would just rely on the demon blood flowing through our veins and come to disregard the human side."

Kotaro stood up and walked to where the old man was standing.

"A Taimanin has to actively search for strength to fight off the demons? Give me a break. What is there to protect if you only care about chasing after power to fulfill the goal."

The mysterious blacksmith didn't respond and continued to work on hammering the object, bending its shape. Through the loudly echoed sounds, Kotaro had yet to finish his pieces.

"The old ways of the Taimanin was brutal because asides from them, the world had not a clue about the demon's presences. At the time, we were the only one that could preventing their evil doings."

Clang!

"But time changes. Not just the demons, we're also living among the ordinary people."

Clang!

"And we come to understand them a little bit."

CLANG!

The last strike rang his eardrums.

"Then perhaps you have indeed grown soft."

"No. We haven't." Kotaro retorted. "We just know how to embrace the heart of a human. It's the best part of us, the one thing that can help us balance the usage of the strength from the demon blood and keep on being human. Otherwise, we would just being ruined by the Inner Demon. That's what they fear from us."

"Such knowledge will mean nothing if you can't even use that strength to protect someone else. You may as well just go on as an ordinary human."

"Yes." Kotaro nodded his head lightly at the old man. "Though, I don't believe that will be the worst case for me. I am already an ordinary human living among the Taimanins, supporting everyone is all I can do."

The blacksmith dipped the hot steel into a water bucket, smoke came out and spread across the room. Kotaro squinted his eye as the dense air hindered the view. Despite standing close to the old man, the figure now became a blurry shadow.

"Without an ambition to push yourself forward, you will be left behind. Without the strength to fight for the cause, you will not be able to save, much less protecting yourself. You would only look at everyone's back getting further away from you. And you are fine with that?"

"I accepted where my starting line is drawn. I would rather keep up to others as closely as I can get instead of trying to surpass them for the sake of proving those values."

"Why is that? It it not ideal to be more ambitious when you have reached a milestone? You have obtained the 'right thing' to prove yourself. Will you cast aside that chance?"

Jolt!

A tingling sensation came from the "right thing" he mentioned. Kotaro briefly touched the closing Evil Eye.

"I've never been ambitious, I only have the desire to prove myself. Till this day, I realize I've never done much with it. I was a stagnant mess."

Kotaro hung his head, looked at the stone floor within the forge and let his thoughts out.

"I awakened my Ninja Art. Frankly, this isn't even a milestone I reached on my own. It's just me received the necessary push to get to Ingrid in time before the Ashen Tree does its worst to her. With the knowledge gained from this eye, I can use its abilities to some extent. And that's really it. That's all I've ever known about this right eye. I used this power in a hurry and didn't stop to think about its limit. Turned out I hit mine first then this eye pulled me back up again."

Kotaro wasn't aware he was rambling at this point.

"There's still something there, probably. I lost the chance to learn more about it. I barely know anything else it can do. It wasn't the eye, it was me who couldn't catch up to its potential. I don't have that much to comprehended it at all. I…...haven't got to the point where I should deserve it yet."

"That is why, to you, the Evil Eye is Nameless."

He nodded.

"Yes. There's a big gap I need to fill up in order to rightfully earn its true name."

"Yet, it is the emergence of your talent, is it not?"

When the smoke was clear, Kotaro shifted his gaze to the blacksmith's straightened back. In that person's hand, the hot steel piece finally had a proper appearance. It was a curved, single-edged blade without a grip. As it looked dull, he started grinding it on the whetstone.

"You saw everything." Kotaro revealed. "I managed to reach her thanks to this eye. I guess I succeeded."

"I believe you did." The blacksmith softly spoke before stressing on his next words. "However, it is still a demon whom you have saved."

"Do you really have to fix your thoughts on that part? By the way, I didn't save her, I only offered help. Ingrid is not your average damsel in distress." Kotaro flinched and brought a hand to his chin for a quick thought. "Actually, I can't even sure of how to picture her in that situation. She is one of the strongest Hell Knights, anyway."

"By no means a demon has good moral."

"We don't know that. There's nothing that can tell us someone is good or bad in nature."

Just like a Taimanin with a human's heart and a demon's strength. There are those who embraces their human side and there are those who chooses to follow the Inner Demon's whisper to gain more power or goes rogued.

This was the same to the demons he had met.

Noah Brown loved to eat and she was like a little sister of the team.

Mido Haruka was never a malevolent demon entity, she was just enjoying the human world and wanted to live a normal life in peace.

Merci was greedy when it comes to making money, other than that she never caused troubles, maybe sometime.

Stella the Oni just loved to make friends.

Catejina was born to be cursed, killing every living things which shared the same time and place with her. Even so, she had never wanted that and found her place in Gosha.

Anemone might be a cold-blooded predator who only cares for her tribe, she was willing to venture to the human world to seek the cause of abnormalities negatively affected her territory. Whatever she did, it was only for the sake of her people. Plus, she got along well with others.

Lilim and Minasaki were the chaotic duo and always ended up in troubles. But in the end, that was just them being mischievous and reaped what they sowed. They would offer their support to the Task Force when needed.

Furfur liked to tease him, and doing her errands in exchange for information wasn't something so bad.

Helga had been cautious around others due to her circumstance. She would eventually open up to his family.

Felicia was a tad bit childish and unpredictable…...also…...also…...eh, he got nothing. Kotaro guessed she likes to toy around him as she thought of him as a big brother figure, or a plaything…..better leave it at that.

Astaroth….no comment.

Arabella Glucksheim was a noble lady of a small country in the Demon Realm. She came to Gosha in hope that she could experience the human cultures and fulfill her dream of forming a society between humans and demons.

Lina the Hell Knight, Kotaro only got to know her through few interactions. She works for Nomad, but he could tell she has her own sense of justice, willing to help others with her strength.

And Ingrid…she is an enemy.

While she is loyal to Asagi-sensei's worst nemesis, her reputation in Gosha is set in stone. Despite that fact, Kotaro believed she could be more than what Gosha has labeled her on their list. Her virtue was not that different from their belief, there were things people really didn't see eye to eye.

"I used to be really intimidated, scared even, just by being in her presence. But, after what happened, I came to understand her a little bit."

"I would say you are afraid of an opponent who is experienced than you, and you are emotionally naïve."

Kotaro admitted he was inexperienced in lots of things. Not just embarrassingly naïve, people sometime addressed him as an idiot, and he solidified their point.

"With your power, you could simply flee from the Ashen Tree's playground. You could skip the forest and mountain without much hindrance, you could have left the demon to her own fate, escaped and called for reinforcement."

It was the blacksmith's turn to vent.

"Instead, you turned your head back to the enemy before you, you charged straight into the most dangerous place just to find a sword to save a demon. A DEMON of all things. To us, the cause and the missions are absolute and feelings cannot be involved. Now you face the consequence of acting like a selfless buffoon, which is unfit for a Taimanin. If I was your mentor, I would tie you to a tree and tickle you in your sleep so hard that you will never be able to get any rest for a whole week! Then I would throw you to the wolves to see how well you can fence off by yourself!"

"Wha-!?"

Big sparks flew from the whetstone. The old man blacksmith was grinding the sword harder than ever.

"Fuuma Kotaro, you are truly an idiot!"

Kotaro wanted to facepalm, another person has preferred to him as an idiot. The club kept getting bigger.

"Then again, who am I to judge a youngster like you, who is living in a time where humans can muster the courage to stand up for themselves."

As his demeanor shifted, the first question repeated.

"I will ask you once more. Is it worth it to save the demon and sacrifice yourself like this?"

Kotaro contemplated those words for a moment. His head titled slightly by a curious thought coming to his mind.

"Wait, you didn't use past tense on my life. Am I not dead?"

"FOCUS!"

The outburst hit him with a strong sense of strictness, startled Kotaro.

"O-Okay!"

"Now take a seat!"

Kotaro immediately sat down, taking a spot behind the blacksmith. He kept himself appropriately closed enough that the companion in the room wouldn't lose their focus on the sword.

"Think about my question and give it some thoughts?"

"It's worth it." Kotaro gave an instant answer.

Sword grinding stopped, the blacksmith's shoulders drooped in reaction. Kotaro watched the way his elbows became motionless and one of it did a faint shake in the next second. Had he not pay attention, the delicate moment would never be spotted.

Click.

The bamboo stand far from Kotaro emitted a noise, he turned to look what caused it. To his shock, the top of the stand slowly slid over the lower part and fell to the mattress. It was an incredible clean cut, a testing stroke came from the unfinished work of the blacksmith.

"Hm. This sharpness is good enough." The old blacksmith hummed as he inspected the honed edge.

Scary! No matter how one looked at it, Kotaro was clearly in the way. The subtle swing had gone past him and hit an object directly in line right behind him.

"Is that your final answer?"

That was a dirty deliberate move, it made Kotaro a bit shaky. But he would not retract the answer.

"Yes." He replied.

If he left Ingrid and went on to save his own life, the Ashen Tree could have had enough time to reach rejuvenation and posed threat to the whole world. Kuchiki's ability could evolve in the process, things would be way worst with his unstable mind.

Not only that, losing Ingrid is equivalent to Nomad losing its moral compass. Actual bloodthirsty demons would slip off their masks and wreck havoc. Gosha Village and Section Three wouldn't be able to handle two major threats all at once.

"I see you have made up your mind."

After polishing the blade, the blacksmith mounted the hilt with a decorative guard and fit the body of the sword into a wooden scabbard. His work is completed.

Kotaro found the process a bit odd to his knowledge. Shouldn't the making of a katana takes more than a week?

"What I am doing is nothing more than a symbolic ritual."

The old blacksmith spoke as if he had read Kotaro's thought.

"Huh? Ritual?"

The blacksmith placed the completed sword on the floor and stretched an arm. His battle-hardened hand traced along the sword, from the guard to the end of the scabbard. With a soft grunt, crimson color entered Kotaro's view. Gusts of red aura was forming around the blacksmith.

"Crimson Taima Particles."

Hearing Kotaro's mutter, the blacksmith slipped a chuckle.

"You do not appear surprised at this. Perhaps, you have realized my identity."

"Your questions about me gave it away." Kotaro nodded.

"A clever young man, you are. Still an idiot, but I believe having some quick-witted thinking ability should help you suffice."

Kotaro had mixed feelings about that compliment.

As he began the final step of the ceremony, the blacksmith shared his story.

"Throughout my life, I had lost many things. My commitment and passion for the swords is merely from the desire to wipe out the demons. The forge I used, the tools I owned, the weapons I built, these are the knowledge I inherited from my late family and the people of my village. We didn't come from a clan, we were just peasants making a living through craftmanship for generations. My father taught me the way of the sword, he was once part of the lesser warrior classes and retired. One day, a strange gate appeared at the village, creatures from the Dark World poured over and invaded us in a blink of an eye. They burned the whole village to the ground using the strange power called magic. The people and friends I used to know felled under their fangs.

At that time, I was just about your age, albeit a bit hot-blooded. In my reckless abandonment of self-preservation, my Art awakened as I rushed through the bloodstained path to reach home. It was there, I found my family murdered by a group of those grotesque creatures. The next thing I knew, my sword had already drenched in their fluids, their limbs and parts laid under my feet. Falling into a deep pit of rage, I went after the rest of the enemies and hoped that I could at least save someone. But even with my power awakened, I was too late to do anything. The demons had got their hands on all of them, they spared no one. When another wave came, I was forced to retreat. From then, I became the sole survivor of my village.

For a long time, rumors had spread. But the people across the land showed their skeptical opinions to the stories about demon's invasion. It was a time of hardship, the country was at odd with itself, they couldn't be bothered to worry about the supernatural side of things. What happened to my village and many others were believed to be the casualties of war.

Without a home, I kept wandering, using my knowledge to build the swords for others to help themselves fence off the bandits and dangers while I tried to understand more about my Crimson Art. With no one to teach me how to use it, it was difficult. Without guidance, it was a horrendous progress. At some point, I'd learned that I can fuse my energy with the weapons I crafted. These Crimson Taima Particles, they sharpen a dulled blade, replace the lost parts of a broken sword, strengthen each stroke and deliver cut that can even touch the most abstract concepts. It turns the weapon into something existed outside the ring of ordinary comprehension."

Kotaro nodded. That explained why the crimson blade can harm a pseudo-immortal like Kuchiki.

"However, because of that reason, normal people cannot use it. They could not handle the energy coming from the crimson weapons as it was a part of my emotion, my wrath. If their will are not strong enough, my Art will possess their consciousness and cause them to attack the nearest demon on sight. That is why I had to label the set of weapons infused with my energy as Cursed, so that the innocents will not harm themselves upon laying their hands on my works."

The rumors about the Senketsu's Collection being cursed was true.

"Though, I could not afford to discard the use of this power as I was able to save myself thanks to it. So I began the search for those who had encountered the demons or at least, shared a similar experience. One night, while I was on the hunt for a demon tribes, I ran into those who named themselves the Taimanins. They had dealt with the problem before my arrival and kept their lips tight as I raised my questions. To my surprise, they had seen and acknowledged my skills. I was offered the opportunity to work with them due to the shortage of their tools and weapons. The one who proposed the idea was none other than Igawa Hasera, their leader."

Kotaro had heard of the name. He was one of the ancient founders and Asagi-sensei's ancestor.

"Of course, there were objections among the members as I was not a part of any of their clans. The Taimanins of that era followed very closely to their rules and were very strict about the Codes, secrecy was utmost important. I was an outsider to them, they would not allow me to be involved in a secret war between them and the demons as I could potentially expose their identities to the public.

However, Hasera was different, he and few others approached me with an opened-mind. We reached an agreement. In exchange of me working with them and giving the knowledge of my craftmanship to their people, the Taimanin would provide me everything they know about the demons as long as I don't trespass the boundary beyond their circle of trust. But first, everything is with an order, I had to undergo an intense training period to prove my worth to the clans' heads. Hasera volunteered to support me. Thanks to his guidance, I had improved to the moment where I was suitable for the position of an Elite Taimanin."

The blacksmith paused for a moment to let Kotaro process his words.

"So that's how you became a Taimanin. You traded the knowledge of craftmanship to the clans, supplied them the finest crafts of your work and officially joined the ranks through missions."

"That is right. Though, only the weapons infused with my Crimson Art served as the most valuable items. I offered to teach the young generations my esoteric sword style, but to them, my approach in battle is considered unorthodox to their manner of operating. They did not favor the reckless bravery of a warrior, they would rather choose the nightly cautious stealth since direct confrontation had never been a part of their specialties. For that reason, when I had done imparting everything I know about craftmanship, I bid farewell to Hasera and made my departure.

I would occasionally stop by one of their branches along the journey to seek out new information about the demons' evil doings. Then, I tracked them, I chased after them, raid their places and unsheathed my blade in their arrogant, unremorseful faces. For a long time, all that in my mind were swords making, demon exterminations…...and my wrath."

"Even in your passing, the wrath lives on." Kotaro said. "You couldn't find it in yourself to forgive the demons."

The blacksmith contemplated to Kotaro's words.

"Young man, I despise the demons very much so with all of my being, for they had taken everything from me. No matter what they do, no matter what kind of repentance they are willing to express for humanity, nothing they do can quell my anger.

And thus I hope, even when my life ends, my wrath remains, to slay the abominable fiends from every corner of the earth.

That is my last will, which I gave to Hasera before my own journey. Just because there are good and bad demons like you've said, I cannot allow a little bit of sympathy to change my mind and forget about the cruelest things they had done in the past. Since your era is at peace, you ought to be more cautious. There is no telling what were whispered in the shadow. I did not mean to force my perspective on you. We just need to remember one thing. Demons and humans think differently, that is something you should always be aware."

"Understood. I will remember these advices." Kotaro nodded.

"Good."

"So, how did you discover the Ashen Tree?"

Shortly, there was silence.

"At the time, there was a rumor in the region. It was about a giant tree that could grant you the blessing called Eternal Spring. I heard of it while I was traveling to a town near the secluded forest. Those who were curious imagined that name as all kind of things, youth, wealth, a second chance in life. Because of wars, some were desperate enough to chase after the rumor without confirming it. None of them were aware that they were being lured into the Ashen Tree's grasp.

Among the Eternal Spring seekers, I met a child. He was by himself, he was an energetic kid even though his predicament was the indirect consequence of the country's senseless inner conflicts. As I decided to live in the town, the child often visited me at my workshop. Either to bother me with his free time or to simply express his interest in craftmanship. I would teach him the basics because he was inclined to hold the hammer and break my failed products in half. That child was very smart for his age. If the circumstance was different, I assumed he could be a bookworm like you.

But then one day, he rushed into my workshop, urging to speak about the Eternal Spring. He said he had finally discovered of its whereabout and showed me the map which he drew on the ground. At the time, I disregarded the rumor as a wishful thinking of those who has lost too much to wish for a better life. The child, however, believed in it. He wanted to search for the blessing that could bring his parents back. And the next day, he stopped coming. He went to the secluded forest with another group of curious villagers. The few days after, he didn't return, and neither the people whom he had gone with.

I started to doubt. So I closed the forge and brought the crimson blade with me to the wood where the Ashen Tree inhabited. The first time I saw, it shocked me to know a giant tree like that actually existed. It was around the time of a festival that I arrived and was invited to take part in a meeting with the priestess of the shrine. Right in that place, I finally discovered the fate of that child. The priestess was no priestess at all, she and her entire village were in the scheme together. She told me the child had become whole with the Great Ashen Tree. That was no blessing, there was no Eternal Spring. She conspired with the Tree to absorb humans for their flesh, blood and soul. In the face of that horrible truth, regret struck me. If only I had come with him, the child would not fall for this trap laid by the monsters.

It was then, my wrath took over me.

And the rest is as you know now, I failed to kill it entirely. To think there was a survivor of that hidden town."

Kotaro didn't have anything to say to the blacksmith's crushing regret. However, being a Taimanin, the old man would eventually have to let go of those emotions.

"For the same reason, I could not let go of my regrets as much as I decided to live on by my wrath." The blacksmith said. "That is truly one of the reasons I am merely a Taimanin in status and not a full-pledge member of our kind. Even so, I appreciated Hasera for showing me the way. And I am sure that you also have someone acting as your guidance."

"Not acting. But a true mentor, her name is Igawa Asagi."

The blacksmith's shoulder shook a bit.

"Heh. Yours is an Igawas too. It seem we both have something in common."

Abruptly, the crimson aura from the sword grew dim. The old blacksmith made a relieve sigh and examined the weapon for one last time.

"It is done."

The deep red Taima particles had completely fused with the body of the blade. The sword now carried the essence of a legendary figure, it was what many of the Taimanins would regard as a treasure.

"Fuuma Kotaro, stand up."

Kotaro quickly obliged without questioning much about the purpose of the ritual. The blacksmith returned the glowing sword to its scabbard and held it stately. While being covered by the sheath, the crimson light continued to show its presence.

Finally, his turned around to face Kotaro. The blacksmith has a battle-hardened, rugged expression deeply marked on the features. Dark hair mixed with white strands gathered in a tight bun at the back of his crown. In contrast to Kotaro's imagination, the eyes didn't fill with a slumbering rage, just a soft gaze, focused and reflected him clearly.

"Like any weapon that came before, this blade also contains my will. It is fully honed, polished and ready to be in use. However, throughout the centuries, it had only been unsheathed once. Upon meeting you, it was the second time. You were able to handle it without being possessed by my wrath."

"I'm sure that is thanks to my right eye."

"That may be so, it acknowledged your determination. Your resolve alone makes you unfaltering to the hateful nature of my Crimson Art. For that, I shall entrust you with it."

Kotaro was taken aback as the blacksmith offered the sword to him.

"W-Wait! Please, Sir! I'm the weakest Taimanin out there, there's no way I can hold onto this!"

"Then it pleases me to know that even the weakest can wield my legacy with ease."

"No! What I meant is…..how did it come to this!?"

"The sword chose you, it recognized your true potential and understood your purpose for wanting to use it. You strive to finish what I had started with the Ashen Tree, I would not have it any other way."

It made no sense to Kotaro. He fought against Kuchiki and the Ashen Tree in order to reach Ingrid.

"But the sword carries your hatred for the demons, I fought with it to get back my companion and she is a Hell Knight, a literal high-ranking noble demon. Isn't that opposes to your ideal and the sword's true purpose? Is this really okay?"

"That has been the case. However, just as you have made up your mind, I have also made my decision to leave this in your care."

"But I'm an inexperienced Taimanin of a clan living in shambles. Only the Elites can have access to your collection. They won't be silent about me keeping your stuff."

"Worry not. It is not just the sword that I will pass on to you. The knowledge of blacksmithing, my own esoteric sword style and the breathing techniques which forgotten by history, you can have it all."

"…..why though?"

At Kotaro's pure confusion, the blacksmith smiled.

"Because it is worth to believe in a humble kindness."

Shifting his gaze to the sword, Kotaro accepted it. The crimson aura once again shone as if beaming with pride in the hands of the one who had received the passing torch.

Something was trailing along its body.

The first time he saw it, Kotaro had never gave it much thought.

But now, as he was staring at the same words engraving into its body, he had a different impression.

These words were meant for him.

The next craft of my work. May I gift it to you as payment for your humble kindness.

Signed, Senketsu.

After a soft grunt, he woke up.

The nighttime of a dense forest returned to his view.

He realized he was resting his forehead on the butt cap of the crimson blade while it thrusted to the ground. Both of his hands were unconsciously gripping the handle. The sword body gleamed a dreamy aura, red Taima particles floated around him like a group of wandering fireflies.

Feeling a bit clueless, Kotaro looked on to the aftermath of a battle with the left eye fully went wide. He was surrounded by a large mass of wooded creatures, unalive and unmoving. He saw the clean cuts on the many severed body parts. Some were piling on top each other, some were burning.

An entire army of them was fully incapacitated. Surely it wasn't his doing.

Kotaro glanced at the sword dimly lit by Crimson Art.

"I see. It was you, this whole time you were still with me. You were still there even though I'd abstracted my soul. You took over my body to help me."

He recalled the synchronization, and the lingering will that was amplified by it.

That person had never left while Kotaro's physical body was at its most vulnerable state.

"Thank you, Senketsu."

[Senketsu's Soul - Desynchronized]

/

Author's Note: Now, you know why it is called the Nameless Evil Eye.

Also, to readers who has yet to recognize the character, Senketsu is not an OC. He's actually a character mentioned in a set of SR weapons in AT.

Thank you for reading. Take Care!