The One Who Returned

The morning light had barely crept over the training ground wall when two figures were already standing in the center of the field.

Cilian held his sword in one hand, its tip pointing at the ground, his stance as casual as if he were out for a stroll. His Zanpakuto had not been released into Shikai and still looked like an ordinary sword.

Hu stood opposite him. Jiku'a had already entered Shikai, and several spatial rifts torn open during its release still lingered around him.

"Ready?"

Cilian's voice was calm.

Hu nodded, then sprang into action.

Jiku'a's spatial slash came from a bizarre angle, its blue light tracing an arc through the air as it went straight for Cilian's waist. The slash was unreasonably sharp.

Cilian narrowed his eyes slightly.

He didn't meet it head-on.

He turned sideways and dodged, forming a hand sign with his left hand at the same time—

"Hadō #31: Shakkahō!"

A red fireball blasted straight at Hu.

Hu didn't retreat.

He gripped his sword with both hands and slashed straight down at the fireball.

The moment Jiku'a's edge touched it, the ball of crimson energy was sliced down the middle like paper. Flames swept past both sides of Hu and exploded behind him, while he remained completely unharmed.

After sparring with Hu over the past few days, Cilian had almost grown used to this unreasonable cutting ability. No matter what form something took, even if it was only a cloud of gas or smoke, there was nothing Hu couldn't cut if he wanted to.

Hu had barely finished his slash when his fist followed. Beowulf's blue light gathered around his left fist as he drove it at Cilian's face.

Cilian's sword couldn't parry at such close range, but his physical abilities were nothing to scoff at either.

He leaned back, the fist grazing the tip of his nose. At the same time, he raised his right leg and kicked Hu's forearm, dissipating the force of the punch.

Hu used the momentum to retreat and open up some distance.

The first exchange ended in a draw.

The corners of Cilian's mouth rose slightly.

"Not bad. Again."

Hu pressed the attack, closing the distance with Shunpo and slashing with Jiku'a. Cilian blocked. The instant their blades met, Hu had already formed a Phantom Blade in his left hand.

"You're forming the Phantom Blade much faster now!" Cilian exclaimed. "But it's still not enough." He was just about to take the attack head-on when he suddenly noticed something was wrong.

A white light had gathered on Hu's Phantom Blade.

"Hadō #4: Byakurai."

Lightning danced along the blade, clinging to the blue phantom. He thrust, the lightning-wreathed edge even sharper than usual.

Cilian turned sideways to dodge, but the lingering lightning grazed his shoulder, leaving a scorch mark on his clothes.

"Loading Kidō into the Phantom Blade while you manifest it? Interesting technique."

Instead of retreating, Cilian advanced. He swept his sword horizontally to force Hu back while forming another hand sign with his left hand—

"Bakudō #26: Kyokkō!"

The surrounding light twisted, and Cilian vanished from where he stood.

Hu immediately retreated, his Concentration state operating at full capacity.

He spun around and slashed horizontally with Jiku'a. The moment the blades touched, Cilian appeared from the distorted light and caught the attack with his sword.

"Nice reaction."

With that, Cilian kicked Hu in the lower abdomen.

Hu was driven back three steps, but immediately steadied himself. Rather than rushing to counterattack, he relied on his complete Concentration state and began to sense his surroundings.

The air around him grew clear. Cilian's breathing, his heartbeat, the flow of his Reiatsu—all fell within Hu's perception.

A trace of approval flashed in Cilian's eyes.

Trying to see through me, kid? Go ahead and try.

He vanished again.

But this time, Hu didn't panic.

He turned sideways and slashed at empty space with the Phantom Blade he had formed. The instant the blade came down, Cilian appeared in that very spot—as though he had walked right into it himself.

Clang!

The two blades collided.

This time, a different Kidō had been infused into the Phantom Blade in Hu's left hand—

"Bakudō #1: Sai."

The Phantom Blade's edge touched Cilian's sword, and a binding force spread along it. Cilian's movements faltered slightly.

It was only for an instant, but that was enough for Hu.

Beowulf's light gathered around his right fist, and he threw a punch—

Cilian hastily blocked, but was driven back three steps.

Hu pressed his advantage, following with Shunpo. He alternated between Jiku'a, Beowulf, and Phantom Blade, switching among the three styles. Sometimes he unleashed Jiku'a's sharp slashes, sometimes Beowulf's explosive brute force, and sometimes he used Phantom Blade with various Kidō attached to disrupt Cilian's rhythm.

Cilian grew increasingly cautious in his response. He took fewer attacks head-on, instead using Kidō to interfere and Shunpo to dodge as he looked for a chance to counterattack.

Their figures crossed back and forth across the training ground amid flashing blades and roaring Kidō.

After an unknown amount of time, they both retreated at once, opening up some distance.

Several new tears marred Cilian's clothes. A scorch mark covered his shoulder, and a corner of his hem had been sliced away. He stood there, breathing slightly hard.

Hu stood opposite him, sweat running down his cheeks, but his eyes were astonishingly bright.

Wisps of smoke still rose from Jiku'a's blade after it had cut through the searing Kidō. Phantom Blade flickered in and out of sight in his left hand, faint patterns of light coiling around its edge.

This time,

Hu had a slight advantage.

Cilian looked at him, then smiled.

"Good work, kid."

"Your transitions between the three styles are already very smooth," Cilian said. "Jiku'a's slashes are sharp enough, Beowulf's explosive power is fierce enough, and you're no longer clumsy with Phantom Blade. You're also putting more thought into your choice of Kidō." He added, "With that strength, you're capable of protecting the Fon Clan for a day."

Hu grinned.

"But—"

Cilian changed tack.

"There's too obvious a pattern to your moves. You always start with Jiku'a's spatial slash, then follow up with Phantom Blade or Beowulf. Switching styles too deliberately will make your moves formulaic, and people will pick up on the pattern. You'll need to work on that yourself."

Hu nodded seriously.

Cilian sheathed his sword.

After training, the two went to the dining hall together.

There weren't many people in the dining hall. Most of the attendants had already finished eating and gone on duty. Hu and Cilian found seats in a corner, each carrying a tray of food.

Hu tucked into his meal, starving.

Cilian ate at an unhurried pace and spoke as he ate.

"Let me tell you about everyone's arrangements for today."

Hu looked up.

"Sakiro picked the members of the Spearhead Squad early this morning and went in disguise to the area near Withered Bamboo Hamlet. Given how fast they travel, they've probably been there for a while. She'll act as a scout all day, making a final reconnaissance of that area."

Hu nodded.

"The Assault Squad under Tessai's command will leave separately this afternoon," Cilian continued. "Then they'll gather at the designated location. They won't draw attention."

"The Kidō Unit and I will also leave the settlement this afternoon, posing as ordinary civilians." Cilian took a sip of soup. "We'll lay out our strategic deployment at the designated location."

Hu listened, committing it all to memory.

"What about Shaoling?" he asked.

Cilian glanced at him, the corners of his mouth rising slightly.

"Her Highness will go about her daily routine with the Fon Clan's attendants," he said. "To provide cover for the operation."

Hu nodded, then realized something was wrong. "Shaoling won't be free? Then how are we supposed to spend time alone together?"

Cilian rapped him on the head with his chopsticks.

"Let me finish. You have a task too."

Hu sat up straight.

"You need to take a walk around the settlement today," Cilian said. "Don't make it too obvious. Just treat it like a stroll."

Hu blinked. "A stroll?"

"Right." Cilian nodded. "But along the way, you need to keep an eye on some of the people around you."

His expression turned serious.

"A lot of eyes have appeared around the Fon Clan lately," he said. "They're very likely spies sent by Withered Bamboo Hamlet or Central 46."

Hu's heart tightened slightly.

"The Onmitsukidō has already marked these people in secret." Cilian took a folded sheet of paper from inside his clothes, placed it on the table, and pushed it over to him. "Their numbers, their usual surveillance positions, and their shift times are all in there."

Hu took the paper and opened it for a look.

It was densely marked with locations, with times and notes written beside them. Every spy's pattern of movement had been recorded in detail.

"What you need to do is check against this information and watch for any unusual changes in their shifts this afternoon," Cilian said. "Normal rotations should match the times in the record. If anyone changes shifts early, if extra people show up, or if anyone disappears—pay attention."

Hu nodded seriously.

Cilian took a small device from inside his clothes and placed it on the table.

"This is a signaling device."

Hu picked it up and examined it. It was palm-sized, with three buttons colored green, yellow, and red.

"Report every two hours throughout the afternoon," Cilian said. "Three reports in total."

He tapped the green button.

"If everything's normal, press green."

He tapped the yellow one.

"If there are more people watching, press yellow."

Finally, he tapped the red one.

"If their numbers decrease, or they disappear altogether—press red."

"What does all that mean?"

"Green means everything is normal. Yellow means the other side may have grown suspicious. Red means they may have caught on and either fled or decided to fight to the death."

Hu swallowed.

"But don't get too nervous." Cilian's tone softened somewhat. "Even if they do catch on, it just means the fighting starts early. There's no way those people from Withered Bamboo Hamlet will escape, and not all of Central 46 can get away either. You only need to follow the plan and do your job, and there will be results."

"Understood."

Cilian looked at him, confirmed that he fully understood the task, and stood up.

"It's time for me to leave."

Hu stood up too.

Cilian patted him on the shoulder.

"I'm counting on you this afternoon."

With that, he turned to leave, but suddenly stopped.

"By the way, Her Highness usually rests in the evening, around the time you finish your third report. That's all I'll say. The rest is up to you."

Hu stood there, watching Cilian leave. Then he clenched his fist. "Just watch me!" Only after clenching it did he remember that he was holding the intelligence Cilian had given him. He hurriedly unfolded it. Fortunately, he hadn't crushed it.

The midday sun shone lazily on the streets of Bamboo Creek Plain.

Following the information Cilian had given him, Hu took a leisurely circuit around the settlement. He checked every marked lookout point. The spies were all where they were supposed to be, and their numbers matched.

He found an inconspicuous corner, took out the signaling device, and pressed the green button.

The green light came on.

Hu breathed a sigh of relief and put the device away.

"This job's pretty easy," he muttered.

What should I do next?

He looked at the sky. There were still nearly two hours until his second report. Surely he couldn't just stand around here like an idiot?

He looked around and suddenly realized that if he went another block or two, he'd reach the shop Shimizu had taken over.

Right, Shimizu isn't on duty today. He and Keiko should be setting up their new home, shouldn't they?

Hu smiled and headed in that direction.

The shop was in a good location, facing a busy street. A brand-new sign hung outside, bearing the words "Qinghui Clothing Shop" in neat, carefully written characters.

As soon as Hu reached the entrance, he saw two people sitting on a bench outside.

One was Shimizu, dusty and with his sleeves rolled high, looking as though he'd just finished working. The other was a burly middle-aged man, also covered in dust, who was chatting with him.

They were engrossed in conversation, both smiling.

Hu paused. Who's that?

Sharp-eyed, Shimizu spotted him immediately and hurriedly stood up to greet him.

"Hu! What brings you here?"

Hu walked over and said with a smile, "I finished training early today and had nothing to do, so I took a walk around the neighborhood. I happened to be passing by, so I came to see how you were getting on with the place."

Shimizu chuckled and looked back at the middle-aged man.

"Oh, right, let me introduce you."

He led Hu over to the man.

"This is Tosaya—the older friend I mentioned to you before."

Tosaya?

Hu looked somewhat surprised.

The older friend who took Shimizu fishing during the dark years? The one who vanished without a trace after being picked by a noble clan?

Tosaya stood up and gave Hu a hearty smile. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and clearly used to manual labor. His face bore the marks of years spent exposed to the elements.

"You're Hu?" His voice was hearty too. "Shimizu was just talking about you, saying how capable you are and how you saved his life."

Hu hastily waved his hands. "No, no, no. I didn't do anything. He was just lucky to survive."

Tosaya burst out laughing and patted Hu on the shoulder. He had a strong hand, and the pat made Hu's shoulder dip.

"You're a modest one, aren't you?" he said.

The three of them chatted by the door for a while. Tosaya spoke readily and answered everything they asked. He said that after those noble families had sent him elsewhere years ago, he had kept looking for a chance to escape. He had spent many years hiding here and there, and only recently had he finally found a chance to come back. He had just arrived in the area today and happened to run into Shimizu. Seeing him setting up his new place, Tosaya had come over to help.

"I was lucky, too," Tosaya said with a smile. "If I hadn't happened to run into Shimizu, I wouldn't have known where to go."

Shimizu nodded repeatedly beside him, his eyes a little red.

Watching them, Hu felt a surge of emotion too.

Being able to come back alive was better than anything.

He glanced at the sky. They had been talking for a while now. He stood up, ready to take his leave.

"I should get back," he said. "I'll leave you two to it."

Shimizu nodded with a smile. "All right, go on."

Tosaya stood up too and patted Hu on the shoulder again.

"Take care on your way."

Hu waved and turned to leave.

After walking a few steps, he glanced back instinctively.

Shimizu was smiling as he talked to Tosaya, who smiled back. The two stood at the entrance to the new shop, sunlight falling on them. It was a heartwarming sight.

Hu looked away and continued on.

What he didn't notice was—

The moment he turned around, the smile vanished from Tosaya's face.

In its place was a sinister glare directed at the Fon Clan Crest fastened to Hu's waist...

The sun began to slope westward, and the hottest part of the day had passed.

Hu walked through the streets, beginning his second patrol.

There were considerably more pedestrians than at noon, coming and going in a lively bustle.

As Hu walked, he checked the lookout posts.

Just then, a clamor suddenly arose by the roadside.

Hu instinctively looked up.

An elderly woman was holding a burly young man, tears glistening in her eyes and her voice choked with emotion.

"You child... Not a trace of you all these years... Do you know how worried I was..."

The young man held the old woman too, his voice low.

"Mother, I'm not leaving. I'll never leave again. Things will only get better from now on."

A crowd of onlookers had gathered around them. Some sighed, some were moved, and some wiped away tears.

Hu watched for a moment and found it heartwarming. He smiled and prepared to get back to what he was doing.

After making a circuit, he pressed the green button again.

He put away the signal device and was about to leave when he suddenly caught sight of a figure out of the corner of his eye.

It was at a lookout post he had just checked. A scout was stepping down from his position as another person took his place.

A normal rotation, and it was about time.

But the way the scout being relieved walked—

He was limping.

He staggered down from his position and headed in another direction, every step looking like a struggle.

Hu frowned.

He recalled what the records said about that man.

He posed as a member of a merchant caravan. The notes listed his cover identity, activity patterns, and handover times, but said nothing about any abnormality in his gait.

The Onmitsukidō's records were detailed. If it were a long-standing physical characteristic, it would certainly have been recorded.

This limping man...

Hu stared after the retreating figure, an indescribable sense that something was off welling up inside him.

Maybe he just got hurt today?

Hu stood there for a while, then finally shook his head and continued on.

Maybe I'm overthinking it.

The sun began to sink in the west, tinging the horizon orange.

Hu walked through the streets, unable to shake that strange feeling. It had been brewing ever since he finished his second patrol, and he couldn't suppress it.

So even after his patrol ended, he continued wandering the streets.

He wanted to take another look.

Then he noticed—

There really were a lot of people who had "come back" today.

On a street corner, a young woman clung to a middle-aged man, sobbing her heart out. "Brother... I thought you..."

By the roadside, an elderly couple held on to a boy, tears streaming down their aged faces. "Child, you're finally back..."

Outside a teahouse, several burly men crowded around someone, patting his shoulders and pounding his back. "You brat, where have you been all these years?!"

One "reunion scene" after another played out in different places.

Hu stood by the street, watching these scenes as his unease grew stronger and stronger.

He had checked the records in his head many times, and had even taken them out to look through them once.

Everything was normal.

He raised his head and looked at the "people who had come back."

Before today, all these people had been missing without a trace.

And today, they had all sorts of reasons, all sorts of stories, and all sorts of touching reunions.

And it just had to be today.

Hu's mind was in turmoil.

The feeling was strange. Strange enough to drive him mad. But if he had to say what was wrong, these things could also be called coincidences.

Everything was normal: normal rotations, normal numbers, normal personnel changes.

But why...

Why am I so uneasy?

He wanted to find someone to ask. But there was no one from the Fon Clan around today. Fon Shaoling was still dealing with clan affairs, and now was not the time to disturb her.

He stood alone in the street, his mind feeling as though ten thousand insects were crawling through it.

Just then, a voice spoke beside his ear.

"Little brother, if you're going to keep an eye on someone, you'd better keep your feelings in check. Otherwise, your prey might run away."

The easy Kyoto dialect carried a hint of teasing.

Hu's mind cleared instantly.

He whirled around.

A man in a shihakushō stood behind him, his eyes narrowed to slits and his signature smile on his lips.

"Brother Kaki?!"

Gin Ichimaru—no, "Kaki"—stood there, smiling like a fox that had stolen a chicken.