Reclaimed – Chapter 40

“I took Mark Sakai from you and now I’ll take your husband too,” Sachi yells over the chaos in the streets.

Kentaro’s face falls at the mention of Sakai dead and Jiro glances towards me. I put my hand over my mouth, so I don’t sob and distract him, but the tears falling from my eyes are enough. Sachi takes advantage of the moment and attacks Kentaro. He whips my shinobijō around, colliding with Sachi’s sword. He blocks left, right, left again, extends the electrical weapon and just misses electrocuting her in the upper arm. She falls backwards and turns in time to block Jiro.

Blood soaks her left arm from where I stabbed her in the shoulder, and her knees shake as she defends herself from Jiro. She’s agile and spry but no match for him, especially in her condition. He backs her up, five paces, ten paces, all the while beating down on her from above. Slash, slash, strike. She barely recovers and bounds forward.

She tried to strike from up high, too, because Jiro’s strength is superior to hers. She thinks this is the only way to fight him but she’s wrong. I’ve fought Jiro enough times to know he’s not rattled by anything. I signal to Kentaro and wave at my backside. He nods, his arms tensing.

Sachi’s attack fades, her breathing labored and frantic. Blood drips from her arm, coating her hand and sword grip. Kentaro circles around to her backside and lunges forward, ramming the electric weapon into the base of her spine. Jiro jumps back as she comes crashing to the ground, twitching and convulsing. Running over to her, I push Kazuo out of the way, frozen in his spot.

“You forgot to check your rear.” I snap my hands onto her back, grab a fistful of shirt, and pull her towards Miura. Her body is fairly light. I doubt she was taking good care of herself these past few months since landing. Not that it matters now.

“Where’s Emiko Matsuda?” I ask Jiro and Kentaro.

Jiro shakes his head. “She slashed her own throat when we entered the house to get Naomi and Yuka.”

Naomi and Yuka, curled into balls at the side of the street, cry and hold each other in a panic, their eyes wide and crazed. I walk over to them, push the hair out of Naomi’s face first and look into her eyes. Her pupils are responsive. I use the tips of my fingers to feel her head, shoulders, back, and legs.

“What are you… I’m okay. Really.”

“I just need to be sure,” I say, examining Yuka as well. “You should get inside and hide until this is over.”

Naomi shakes her head at me. “What are you going to do with our father?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”

Yuka grabs my arm. “Kill him and be done with it,” she says, her voice hoarse.

These girls have been through so much lately. I hope this is over for them soon. “Get inside,” I direct, pulling them to their feet and pointing towards an abandoned store with its door cracked open. “Stay there until I say you can come out.”

I double over, coughing and hacking, my hands on my knees, and try to bring fresh air into my lungs. Shishi and his pride enter the square and circle around us.

“Lions!” Yuka screams, her finger pointed.

“It’s okay. They’re with us.” I shush her as I walk them towards the store. Her shoulders shake so I clasp them in my hands and squeeze. “You’re going to be all right. I promise. You and your sister can return to Yamato and live in peace now. Just… just don’t watch this.” I try to usher them into the store and out of sight, but she slaps my hand away.

“No. No! We’re staying.”

The theater continues to burn to the ground, the fire fighters doing their damnedest to keep the flames from spreading. Lions and foxes surround my two hostages with Maeda standing over them, warily avoiding the lions.

“Sanaa…” Jiro places his hand on my back. “Are you okay? What happened to Mark?”

I gather all of my courage to look him in the eyes. If anyone is going to give him this information, it should be me. “Sachi stabbed Mark in the belly, and he died right under my hands.” I tip up my hands and his blood is still seeped into the lines of my palms and around my fingernails. A sob bubbles out of my mouth. “You’re the head of Sakai Clan now.”

His lip quivers, eyes glass over, and panic pumps through me. I can’t see Jiro cry. I cannot do it. Not with everything left we have to do today. He leans towards me, to hug me, but I put my hand on his chest, halting him. He groans in pain, so I step closer to him and lift my lips to his ear.

“Not yet, my love. No time for grief. Give me a knife.”

He blows out a steadying breath, nods his head against mine and steps away, pulling on his passive face like a mask. In his belt are two knives and the wakizashi which he hasn’t fought with yet. He reaches for one, but my eyes catch sight of the other.

“No, wait! That one.” My heartbeat quickens as he pulls the other knife from his belt. I’d recognize that blade anywhere. “Here,” Jiro had said to me alone in our room, so long ago. “I have a small, extremely sharp dagger I want you to fasten to your leg, too. This one will be our secret.” Jiro tied it to my calf the evening we went to the theater in Nishikyō. It’s the knife I used to kill Tadao Matsuda. “How long have you had this?”

He licks his lips and drops his eyes sheepishly. “It was a gift from Mark, the birthday before we left.”

I heft the knife in my hand and remember driving it into Tadao’s belly, his warm, thick blood gushing out over my hands. I never thought I’d see this knife again. Only in dreams did it ever appear, sitting in my hand with strands of my own hair.

“It’s perfect.”

I stride towards my hostages. Miura has gained consciousness, his eyes darting around to the fox on his chest, the lions, and Maeda over him.

“Get on your knees,” I command, pointing to him. Ginza leaps from his chest and Maeda pulls Miura up to his knees. Sachi, barely a breath left to her, lies next to him, her blood in pools around her head.

I stand in front of Miura and all I see is the haughty asshole who held me prisoner, broke me down for days, and then sold me to Fujiwara. I see the evil man who set my town on fire, sent assassins to kill his own wife, kidnapped his daughters, and imprisoned a town full of people. How can anyone be this evil?

Wiping the tears from my eyes and taking a deep breath, I throw back my shoulders and set the knife on the ground in front of him.

“Tomio Miura, head of Clan Taira, you are hereby commanded to commit seppuku, and you get no second. I’m not even going to list your crimes because they are way too extensive. This is the knife I used to kill Tadao.” I nudge the knife with my toe. “I’m sure it’ll do the job quite well.”

Sachi’s eyes are closed and her breathing is shallow. I kick her in the shin. “Watch,” I tell her, though she opens her eyes barely a slit.

Miura glares at me, ash and soot stains all over his face and body, bleeding from several cuts on his face.

“What are you waiting for?” I ask him. “Do it.”

“You can’t make me do anything, you worthless whore. I hear Osamu used you ten ways before he was done with you.”

Jiro’s footsteps approach from behind, but he’s interrupted when Arata and Namika run up from an alley close by. “Stop, Jiro,” Arata says. He places his hand on Jiro’s chest and looks to me. “Sanaa, we need to move quickly.”

I sigh. “Fine.” I turn back to Miura and draw Kazenoho. “Miura, you either end your own life now with what little honor that provides or you die by my own sword. And don’t think I won’t kill you. I have dreamt of killing you for months now. It would make me quite happy.”

I dig deep to find the evil, unkind, and menacing side of me I buried these last few weeks, and smile. I selflessly gave up so much to protect the people I love. As empress, I was to give up my very life and privacy to my people, but my people have suffered under our enemies and my own inaction. I’m certainly not going to let Miura go.

He locks eyes with me, picks up the knife, turns it and runs the blade into his own abdomen, determined to take any last happiness I may have with him into death.

“The joke’s on you, Miura. I’m happy whether you kill yourself or I do.” I place my foot on his shoulder and push him over next to Sachi, her last breath drawn and eyes open.

It’s done, and I should be ecstatic, joyful, content. My enemies are dead, this town is liberated (but unfortunately on fire), and I managed to save Maeda and Miura’s daughters.

But Sakai is gone. The first man after my own father to ever love me is gone, and I can’t get him back. He’s gone like my mother and father, like Jiro’s father, like the many other people who have died in my stead. I’m a failure.

“Where’s Sakai?” Namika asks, and I point to the burning theater.

“He didn’t make it.”

We stand silently and watch the theater, flames consuming every last piece of it. I bring my hands in prayer position to my lips and pray. “Please gods, take care of my dear friend, Mark, and give me the strength to tell Lucy of his death.” Because I have none left.

Kumo enters the square, running to me at full speed, two lionesses trotting behind him. He jumps up on me, licking my face and panting, unable to even talk, he’s so happy to see me.

“Done? Over?” he asks, sitting down next to me and looking at the dead bodies on the ground.

“Yeah. Over.”

“Sanaa!” The call comes from up high, Himitsu circling above my head. “You’re alive?” He floats down to me, and I pluck him out of the air, into my hands and to my chest. Jiro, stunned until this point, grabs us both and hugs us to his chest.

“You sound surprised,” I whisper down at my little fluff ball of an owl.

“I saw you go into the theater but then circled out of town.” He shakes out his feathers and pushes away from me. “You must hurry. Fujiwara approaches from the east. He’ll be here soon. Maybe an hour, probably less?”

“What?” I squeak. “Fujiwara himself?” Everyone tenses, alert.

“Yes, with his son, Osamu, and about twenty men on horseback. They have an army parked not far from here?”

“Are you sure?” I glance around and nothing is moving in the streets, even the fire fighters stand still watching the theater. They can’t stop the blaze.

“The army is about three hundred strong twenty kilometers east of here. Fujiwara and Osamu are coming into Tsūka on their own with a smaller team? Probably because they see the fire?” I nod and relay Himitsu’s information.

“It was to be a three-pronged attack,” Naomi says, staggering to us. “I heard them planning. My father was going to take Takayama. Osamu would invade Izumo, and Fujiwara would hit Yamato. All at the same time. They were going to meet here today.”

Fujiwara and Osamu, here, today! I thought we’d have to invade Tengoku because I didn’t believe Fujiwara would ever leave his stronghold. My knee starts to bounce as I scan the town, the second story windows, and the square in front of the theater that easily displays Miura and Sachi’s dead bodies.

“Recall the lions. Everyone gets a weapon.” I point to Arata, Namika, and Kentaro. “Get the explosives ready.”

“What are you thinking, Sanaa?” Jiro asks.

My whole body is giddy with excitement.

“Let’s end this. Right here, right now. An empty town and they’re heading straight for us? There will never be a better chance.”

He sighs, examining me from head to toe, and his eyes pause on my singed hair, my burnt arm, the rips in my clothes and my dirty boots. I’m a mess but not out of the game.

“Let’s do it.”