The bright light of the early afternoon sun made her squint—until the frame of a blurry figure shaded her from it.
She still felt delirious, unable to make sense of what was going on, but with time her eyesight became clearer.
Soon, she could identify the person who had saved her: a head of long, spiky black hair, deep black eyes, and a bloodied forehead.
His gaze was set elsewhere, toward a place she couldn't see—but after a moment, he looked back down at her.
She tried to speak, but at first only incomprehensible words came out as she struggled to form them.
When she finally managed to speak, she said only one thing.
"Is that you, Izumi?"
The branches from the shattered barrier fell to the ground like tumbling trees, sending splintered wood flying across the field.
Most of the debris fell away from the crowd, leaving only smaller fragments scattering toward them—until the largest branch gave way, falling directly toward the villagers.
Many began to flee, but it was clear not everyone would escape unscathed.
In the midst of the chaos, Juro stood, gripping the handles of Mei's wheelchair.
It was too late for them to run, so they remained still, without so much as a flinch. As Mei looked up, a figure dressed in black caught her eye.
She dashed through the air, using the falling debris as footholds. She moved straight toward the massive branch—and instead of retreating, she drew the sword at her waist.
With one decisive strike, she split the branch vertically.
Then horizontally.
Then diagonally.
Again, and again, and again—until the falling wood scattered harmlessly across the ground.
Landing smoothly, she didn't turn back. Instead, she ran straight toward Izumi and Takae.
"Takae!" she yelled, her breath uneven.
"She's okay," Izumi said, flexing the fingers of his left hand.
His sleeve was torn, and from a massive wound on his arm, blood seeped out—mixed with a black substance that oozed from the injury. The skin around it quickly began to discolor.
"What the hell is that?" Yuriko asked, noticing the changes.
"I don't know," he replied. "All I know is that whatever attack he used grazed me when I tried to block it."
"Are you guys okay?" Miyuki asked as she rushed toward them. "I'm sorry that I wasn't fast enough—I lost consciousness for a second back there."
"It's alright," Izumi replied, looking down at the unconscious Takae. "She's okay."
Yuriko turned to Miyuki. "Do you know what this stuff rotting his arm is?"
Miyuki glanced at Takeru. "It's that guy's technique.
"He uses energized bacteria to rot organic matter—but it's clear he has other tricks up his sleeve, like the delirium that Takae and I were just hit with."
Clenching her fist, she added, "It's clear he's no rookie like us."
"Is that right?" Yuriko said as she stood. "Well, we have strength in numbers, so that has to count for something."
"You say that, but it's clear we're all injured," Miyuki replied.
A vein bulged in the hand gripping her sword as she eased into a stance. "Then I guess we take him out before we all pass out."
"Right when I thought this fight was coming to a close, you surprise me yet again," Takeru said as he faced them. "This is quite the interesting group you have here, sis."
He glanced at Takae lying unconscious in Izumi's arms. "I guess you can't hear me anymore."
"Repeat that again," Izumi said as he rose, leaving Takae in Miyuki's care.
"What are you talking about?" Takeru asked.
"I said repeat what you called her again!"
"Oh, you mean 'sis'?" he replied. "I guess that is a crude way to refer to your cousin, now that I think about it."
"You better watch what comes out of that dirty mouth of yours, punk."
"Why? I'm only saying the truth," Takeru said, a faint grin on his face even from a distance. "Or does the truth wash away a pampered lie that secures you?"
Noticing the silent glares from both Izumi and Yuriko, he continued.
"You know, when I was told about the nature of her upbringing, I was taken aback," he said. "All I could do was wonder what would happen when the lie that sheltered her—and those she lived with—came crashing down."
"The thought alone sent shivers down my spine, so I can only imagine what it's like for you."
"That's enough," Yuriko said, her tone sharp but low. "Since you can't tell when to shut that mouth, we'll gladly do it for you."
"That's quite the bold thing to say," Takeru replied, "but how much can you accomplish—especially with an injured comrade like that?"
"I'm not her comrade," Izumi said as he reached into his robe and pulled out a roll of bandages. "I'm her brother. Get the difference."
"Is that what you believe, even with the truth laid before you like this?" Takeru asked.
"Screw the truth," Izumi replied as he wrapped the bandages around his arm. "I don't give a damn about anything you say. All I care about is all the different ways we have to choose from to beat you."
"Do you think putting bandages over a wound like that will magically solve all your problems?" Takeru said, his tone derisive. "Your delusion keeps defying lowering expectations."
"Leave it to a smart-ass like you to think I'm trying to heal myself," Izumi said, tying the final knot. "All these bandages do is dull my pain and stop whatever crap you threw at me from messing with my motor control."
Then he took his stance.
"Healing is a luxury that's dirtied by your presence in my line of sight."
"You think that bum arm of yours will last?" Takeru said as he materialized two rods in his hands.
"Your voice is irritating," Yuriko said. "So do us a favor and shut the hell up until we drag your sorry ass through the mud."
Takeru scoffed at their serious expressions. Then, with a grin spreading across his face, he said,
"I've got my own score to settle with you wretches—"
"—so bring it on!"