"Try it," Akira said softly.
His voice wasn't loud. Not challenging. Just flat, as if responding to an offer of drinks, not the threat of ten bandits surrounding him.
The bandit leader grinned. "You're alone. We're ten."
Akira glanced at the bound merchant family tied to the wooden post. The daughter cried silently. Her mother held her tight. The father tried to look brave, though his face was pale.
"I know, so what." Akira replied.
His hand slowly gripped the katana's hilt.
Honestly, he hesitated. Ten wasn't a small number. Ryuma always said: fools fight numbers, samurai fight opportunity.
One bandit charged first.
Akira sidestepped half a step. His first slash came with minimal movement. Clean. Fast. The bandit fell before the others even realized.
"Kill him!" their leader shouted.
Three rushed together. Akira moved like flowing water. He didn't fight with force, but with direction. One slashed at the wrist, another at the shoulder, the third dropped after a short kick to the knee.
His sword felt light. Too light.
Each swing reminded him of endless training in rain, under blazing sun, under Ryuma's hard gaze.
"Don't let anger make your sword heavy," Ryuma's voice echoed in his head.
Bandit after bandit fell.
Now only the leader remained.
The man advanced slowly, a large nodachi resting on his shoulder. "Who are you really?" he growled. "Those moves aren't from some villager."
"I'm just someone who doesn't like seeing children cry," Akira answered.
They attacked almost simultaneously.
The long blade nearly grazed Akira's face. He ducked, spun, steel clashed hard. The leader was strong. Stronger than the rest. But slow, overconfident.
"You think you're a hero?" he mocked, swinging wildly.
"I'm nobody," Akira replied calmly.
A gap opened.
A fraction of a second.
Enough.
Akira stepped in, took a short breath, and swung the katana from below upward.
Silence.
The bandit leader's body stood a moment before his head separated and fell to the ground.
A gentle afternoon breeze passed.
Akira exhaled deeply, then quickly cut the ropes binding the merchant family.
The father knelt immediately. "Thank you… thank you, Samurai-sama…"
"I… I'm not a samurai," Akira said quickly.
"To us, you are more than that."
The man stood hurriedly and fetched a sack of gold coins from inside the house. "Please accept this."
Akira shook his head. "No need, uncle."
"It is necessary," the father said firmly. "If you refuse, you insult us."
Akira fell silent. He understood a family head's pride.
Before he could reply, the man ran behind the house again. This time he returned with a tall, majestic white horse.
"This is yours now too."
Akira was stunned. "This is too much."
"My family's lives are worth more."
Finally Akira nodded slightly. "Fine. I accept."
The father smiled in relief. "What is your name, sir?"
The question made Akira freeze for a split second.
A name.
His name was now a burden.
"…Akira Odawara," he answered at last.
"Akira-dono," the man bowed deeply.
Akira left quickly before the conversation stretched longer.
Ryuma was sitting in front of their small house by the Iwai River when Akira returned.
He nearly choked on his sake when he saw the white horse and two sacks of gold.
"I told you to buy rice," he said flatly.
"I forgot."
"You forgot… and came back with a horse? Did you steal it?"
Akira sat and told him everything. Ten bandits. The duel. The rewards.
Ryuma stayed quiet a moment. Then laughed loudly.
"Ten men?" He slapped Akira's shoulder. "Good. At least my training wasn't wasted."
"I didn't go looking for trouble."
"Trouble found you," Ryuma replied casually. "With this much gold, we could open a shop in central Nara. Or a big sake tavern. I've been tired of eating salted fish every day."
Akira gave a faint smile.
For the first time, the future sounded possible.
But two days later, their morning changed.
Akira and Ryuma had just pulled in the fishing net when hoofbeats approached.
Five fully armed soldiers stopped by the riverbank. The Nara clan crest was clear on their chests.
Their leader dismounted. "Which of you is Akira Odawara?"
Akira stood slowly. "Me."
"You killed ten bandits two days ago?"
"Yes."
"You are summoned to appear before the Daimyo of Nara. Now."
Ryuma narrowed his eyes. "Summoned… or ordered?"
The soldier glanced at him. "Summoned. But best not to refuse."
Akira looked at Ryuma. "My uncle comes with me."
The soldier nodded. "Allowed."
Nara city was busier than they expected. Above the palace gate, two flags flew side by side: the Nara clan banner and the Kamakura banner.
Ryuma snorted softly. "They're trying hard to look loyal."
Akira didn't reply.
He knew the history. Nara had once stood with Emperor Go-Toba during the Jōkyū Rebellion. They lost. Subjugated by the Hōjō of Kamakura.
Unlike the Kageyori clan, which after Jōkyū was erased from the map. Its name almost forbidden to speak.
Now Nara was under direct Kamakura supervision.
The audience hall felt vast and cold.
Daimyo Nara sat on the high seat, face calm but sharp. Officials stood on both sides.
Akira knelt respectfully. Ryuma stood behind him.
"You're the one who wiped out those bandits?" asked Daimyo Morizawa Nara.
"Yes."
"You protected my people. That is commendable."
Akira bowed his head. "I only did what should be done."
The daimyo studied him for a long time.
"What is your full name?"
The question came lightly. Almost casually.
"Akira Odawara." Akira tried to stay calm.
The daimyo gave a thin smile.
"You're not good at lying."
The room grew quieter.
Ryuma tensed behind him.
The daimyo stood slowly.
"I recognize that face. Especially those eyes. Akira Kageyori."