I was numb; the cries of the government had faded away. Instead, in its place was the clashing and howls of steel against steel. My blade was able to sink into them, cut them down until they were nothing but a lifeless heap. I had displayed my might, killing man after man but yet they kept onward. Kitcho led us into this. We, the Akadama clan, had pitted ourselves against the Meiji government.

Kitcho…

The man was ambition, skill, and charisma all in one. He was as respectable as he was deadly with his blade. He had wanted the impossible: to turn back time's dial and be done with western artillery; he wished to restore the samurai to their former place. He had attracted several elite swordsmen, some that were perhaps able to match even myself on the field of battle. Asakura, Watanabe and Terao, but most notably, there had been Karibe.

Karibe was second only to Kitcho and something inhuman on the battle field. In a twist of fate, it had been us five Akadama warriors battling the horde of coward government soldiers. The artillery however, was almost something from a legend. It was able to bring Asakura's life to an abrupt end, when he was among the most skilled of the Akadama warriors.

After him came Watanabe, who suffered the same fate. For a while, it had been us three, Terao the Demon, Karibe the Shark, and I, the Drifter. We had fought until our bodies' could no more. Even in the face of exhaustion, our blades remained but a flash of silver, never able to be seen and never quite having a definite form. So great was the number of government troops before us, that many a number had turned tail. I had remembered the looks on their faces; Karibe's as fierce as his namesake, and Terao as fierce as a lion.

But then Terao had died. He had saved Karibe's life, A gun shot burning beneath his ribs, he charged forward, defiant until the end, filling himself and his blade until his last breath. He had fallen at least after a dozen shots. It was the way a samurai should die, embraced in the din of battle, to be allowed the honor of being something in which your opponents feared. Karibe had transformed then, truly becoming "Sharkskin". He had reminded me. To die in battle is to die honorably, but…

It had angered me.

It had frustrated me that our cause was steadily being whittled down, that even the Akadama, even with all of our skill, was unable to defeat those cowards. Asakura, Watanabe and Terao had all been slain and only two out of five of us remained. I had wanted to rush into the government ranks, to make them feel my frustration and wrath at who they had taken from me, but Karibe had steered me away from that too. He had told me that Kitcho needed both of us to live and to die now would to be to forsake him to a worthless death. He had told me that Terao had done his duty, had told me Asakura had died not in vain and that we would drive the government away from the pass and avenge their deaths…

Karibe…

Kitcho…

Terao…

Asakura…

Chelsea…

Chelsea…

Chelsea…

That woman... She was unlike any I had ever seen. Her hair was unnatural and her skin was paler than I had seen. She had been with Kitcho when he had untied me from the tracks. She was there with a confident, almost sly grin. She was a woman and skilled enough with her blade to match any man. I had originally thought of her as some manipulative cur that was there to grow fat from Kitcho's position, but she had been more than that. She became an ally, and friend.

She was daring like a samurai. I had stumbled upon her one day after returning from my regiment of training and had seen her moving toward the Kurou household. She was planning to kill Tesshin herself, no matter the odds. She was stopped by Tsubohachi, and almost like what she had done for me in that same place, I had saved her.

I acted for her when Kitcho and Karibe had locked blades.

"What are you doing!? Don't just stand there, stop them!" she had said. And I had drawn my sword for her. Karibe was good, but Kitcho was better. I had fought Karibe and won by a thin margin. Perhaps it would've been more wise to kill him, but instead, I had spared him.

Tesshin died the next day, and Kitcho saw it. A gunshot wound almost like Terao's would be soon after; he died instantly. Then everything fell into place. The government attacked, putting the people in danger, and thrusting us into battle with them. The Kurou did nothing. They had lost their heart along with Tesshin. Kitcho, my friend, my leader was livid with rage, and perhaps that in what pushed him so far beyond any single swordsman. He had told us that he'd go first and that we should follow him closely, but he was far too skilled for us do such a thing. Karibe had moved to the railroad, where I would be forced to depart with three close friends and Chelsea and I were left at the mansion to assist who we thought necessary.

The Meiji government had cut us off though, and we were trapped like animals, but fought on an entirely different caliber. My blade was an extension of myself, its sheening silver paving a path before me. It was nothing new. What had astonished me was her. Chelsea was moving fluently, her body a weapon. She had dipped and dodged and shunted the government blades away. She was a fish in water, eternally evasive. Her blade would only prick them, and they would drop in her wake.

We had stormed through tens of them, but more would file in. I had heard Chelsea cry out and I found her to be at the mercy of a soldier. I had broken from my opponent to save her, cutting through him faster than what could be seen, and he fell lifeless to join his other comrades. I had wanted to stay to help her look after the wound; to protect a friend should anymore of the spineless dogs show their faces but she bade me to go, but I had challenged her. I refused to let her sit there, when anything was a possibility. She bade me to go again, but in that moment I had done something I should not have.

I had embraced her first, and then pressed my lips onto hers before leaving. I had filed away from sight then. I had made a poor decision. I had shrunk away from my code. I had done Kitcho wrong, but it was something in which I could not resist.

I had met with Karibe, and my doomed comrades. Sharkskin had also prompted me to go after we had finished there, even at the cost of our friends and so I did. I moved to the station, cutting down more of the government rats, flicking steel until I had met up with him.

Kitcho.

He was enclosed in a circle of blades, baiting them, but also standing ready. My attention had shifted for a slight second before I heard the spray of blood. As I turned back, there were two of the men falling back clutching their wounds. Seconds after, another had dropped to his knees, then to the earth. He had fought them alone, all the while not allowing a single blade to hinder him, to even graze his clothing.

And then suddenly, I was there, fighting alongside Kitcho on the Rokkotsu Bridge, my hands growing numb and rigid from battle. Chelsea had rushed in to save Kitcho from a stray bullet but at the cost of her own life. I had felt the same feeling from the railroad. I had watched Terao and the Akadama dream be cut down to size. This was the last straw. In a frenzied rage, Tamagawa had been slain by my very hands, but even then, they continued to swarm. I can remember Kitcho's words before it all:

"Let us show them how true samurai live and how true samurai die!"

It was who he was; leader Kitcho, son of Tesshin and leader of the Akadama clan, Sword-master and a man. Kitcho, my friend; Kitcho, Chelsea's beloved.

I coughed up blood. The feeling of exhaustion was heavier than ever. I had been on my feet moments ago. I looked to Kitcho, who only lay only inches from me, the moonlight being enough to paint out his body and features. He was there un-moving and unblinking. The fire and ambition, the charisma and majesty were all gone. I choked back a feeling of horror and sadness.

Kitcho was dead.

I inched my head forward slightly, but felt a stab of pain, and suddenly something leaking from me. I had been stabbed. They knew I hadn't died, that I was still here.I was only able to see a little forward, and I grinned. The government troops had backed away. Most of them were shaking in fear as I went to get back to my feet, as I began to walk forward, my blade in hand. They were frightened to see the true soul of the samurai.

I gave a barely audible chuckle. It wasn't the soul of the samurai alone. It wasn't loyalty alone. It was a fool in love. My own footsteps were strange to me as I limped forward. Her name was on my mind and at the tip of my tongue. Her name was a tempest within me. Chelsea had been my ally and friend, but there was much more that I had felt. My voice croaked.

"Chel…sea…" I had seen them shaking and I had felt the blade slick in my hands. I had felt the stab and dead weight of my body. Suddenly, there was nothing. Nothing but white had shown. Everything had vanished, the government and Kitcho alike. I had seen nothing but her.

Chelsea was suddenly before me, her hand gently caressing my cheek.

"It's time to go." She had told me, and I took her hand, something I would never have done in respect to Kitcho. It was this subtle detail that had told me where she was taking me. She was taking me away into death. I had fought to a death truly noble for a samurai and was to be carved into history. I let out a breath slowly.

"Take me to Kitcho."