CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Despite what most would think, considering all he had done, Tatsuya took no special pleasure in murder. Yes, it was (in some way) a form of control, having power over someone, and a part of him liked feeling powerful. On some days, he would even go as far as saying he enjoyed it, enjoyed being the one to inflict the suffering and pain that he bore throughout hs years. But the act itself, seeing life leave a man's eyes, stirred no passion in him, nor did it give him glee to hear his actions had resulted in the unnecessary death of many—so, despite the fact he understood his reasons for causing a pandemonium in Elmwood, he still couldn't shake off the guilt of his sins.

He was human, and as such, as the Wind Blades travelled towards the capital—making quick stops in villages for Farah, under disguise, to resupply the group with resources—his mind was consumed by thoughts of the people he had hurt and the mistakes he had made.

He tried to push the feelings aside—a cocktail of turbulent emotions he imagined other people might feel more keenly—but they kept surfacing, and it caused him to struggle with his focus during the training sessions, so lost in thought was he that he didn't notice Leia lunging at him with a wild swing.

Tatsuya caught the sharp arc of a punch, first tightened considerably against the backdrop of a burning sun, just before it sank into his jaw from the side. Even as an audible crack rang in the clearing, he managed to retain enough composure to dodge the following blow in time but was caught off-guard by the ferocity of the attack. He stumbled back, trying to regain his balance and focus on the spar as the lean lightning elemental pressed her advantage.

A knee to his chest knocked the wind out of him, and as he was shoved face down against the hard, dry ground, he realised he had let his guard down and allowed his distraction to get the better of him. His hands came up on either side of his body, and he tried to stand and retaliate, but the pain radiating from his jaw and the lack of oxygen in his lungs prevented any movement.

“I was excited when I heard we get to train you; as a fellow speed-oriented combatant, sparring with you would help me a lot.” Leia’s words were spoken slowly with an undercurrent of exasperation that verged on anger. “But it seems I was wrong to expect much from an idiot we had presumed dead.”

Tatsuya’s attempts to summon anger at her rude remark failed as his mind kept drifting toward his earlier train of thought, and he quickly found he didn't want to feel guilty anymore. The feeling was a caustic incessant throb in his chest, and as he took a moment to examine it deeply, he found the source of his guilt was his reaction—or rather, a lack thereof—to his actions and not his actions outright.

He knew that if needed, he was willing to ignore morality and harm villagers (innocent villagers in most cases) in pursuit of fulfilling his life promise. As long as it brought him closer to that goal of murdering Kuro, no price was too much for him to pay,

If someone were to ask him what he was willing to sacrifice, he would tell them the world. If they told him he had to kill, he would ask how many. He wouldn't do it because he felt like committing murder; no, he would do it because it would advance his goal.

Still, it was a troubling realisation, but one he wasn't allowed to dwell further upon as a shadow covered his face. He shook off his distraction in time to dodge the stomp, rolling sideways briefly before rising to his feet in one smooth motion. The guilt still lingered at the back of his mind, gnawing away at him, but he thought he had enough composure to focus on the occurring spar.

“Are you ready to put up a good fight? Or are you content with wasting more of my spirit-damned time?”

In lieu of responding to any of her questions, Tatsuya brought a hand to his jaw. It ached, but he was certain it was neither dislocated nor broken, and he was able to pull it back with a nasty sound ringing between his ears. The pain went away almost immediately, and he sunk into a stance, body bent slightly with his lead side forward.

Anger visibly briefly warred against confusion on Leia’s features at his silence until, eventually, a grin settled on her, and she mirrored his stance—though where his favoured a more evasive approach, hers was aggressive and intimidating: knees bent, weight forward on the balls of her feet, head lowered and hands raised to guard her face. Her hazel eyes were piercing, and her frame tense and rigid, like a spring ready to snap into a flurry of attacks when prompted.

Just before he rushed her, his eyes roamed across the clearing, and he was surprised to see only Jao watching the spar from where he sat. Farah and Zoel (and her seal, of course) were missing again, but Rei was a few metres away, performing an intricate routine with a lone sword. In that instant, he noticed the man's breathing and how he timed his strikes to each exhale; he saw how the water elemental’s feet barely touched the ground and how he moved with grace and power—and Tatsuya was rewarded for his lingering stare with a sharp palm to his face, courtesy of Leia, and he was forcefully reminded he should never take his eyes off his opponent, spar or not.

The blow struck hard, under his nose and driving it up, and in the brief window of agony, as he was stumbling, his experience told him that it could have been instantly fatal—which, in a rare out of character moment, led him to try to respond in kind, his blood boiling.

He was not the type to easily give in to anger. The ability to remain calm and rational in the face of adversity had helped him escape situations most would falter in—his interrogation with Jao and escape from Elmwood came to the forefront of his mind—but in this situation, he could hardly be faulted. It was ridiculous, he knew. He had seen the widening of her eyes after the attack had landed, her good nature warring with the instincts that rose in fights and ultimately failing, and that was normal. But the thought of almost dying prematurely (in a spar of all things) was enough for his self-preservation to rear its head.

Anger and shame mixed with adrenaline to course through him like a pulsing heat and he swung out blindly, though more so to create space than any attempt at retaliation, but she smoothly slid into a leg-sweep, knocking his support from under him. The ground smashed into his back, forcing the air from his lungs in a rushing wheeze, and he found himself piqued—how many times had he been felled? He was meant to be better than this for fuck's sake.

Despite his battle-honed experience doing its best to encourage self-control, his anger seemed to mount further as he rolled back to his feet, still fighting against the tightness in his chest, to see her pushing her advantage, arms and legs closing in on him quickly. Tatsuya didn't even stop to check his wounds as his concentration had already cost him once and instead, with a sudden burst of strength, transitioned from blocking and evading as many of the blows as he could—arms jarring in their sockets every time he did, his ribs and face blossoming with pain every time he didn’t—to channelling that strength into his offence.

When said offense proved insufficient, fear took the place of anger and the rules of the spar was discarded, the threat of an impending loss intensifying his shame as a result. After all, he was about to cheat just to win a spar. Unecessary, he knew, yet he did nothing to stop the air from responding to his demands to hasten his body. His legs felt as if they would collapse at any moment, but with the continued use of his element, the momentum of the bout was now heavily in his favour. He knew its rhythm; it was in his bones, the throb of his aches, and the beat of his heart.

Her body jerked from one direction to the other, but try as she might, she was unable to muster enough composure to counter- attack. Tatsuya was one simultaneous tornado of movement as each of his attacks rolled naturally into the next, with no wind- ups, no wasted motion—a blur too fast for the eye to follow.

Even recovery was out of the question for her as his leg rose sharply, and his foot coiled around her neck in an attempt at a finishing attack, the currents shifting to aid him. However, just before he could slam her to the ground, the smell of ozone lit the vicinity, and lightning fuelled her escape.

Tatsuya backed off, eying her warily as she spat blood onto the darkened pavement and readied herself once more, grimacing. Her element wove crisscrossing arcs of power around her body, and he knew it was increasing her speed and reaction to a superhuman level.

“Stop!" Jao shouted, choosing that moment to step forward. His voice echoed throughout the clearing, sharp and commanding, and even Rei stopped his practice to watch the unfolding situation. However, Leia was not fond of the sudden interruption and made her displeasure known, turning towards the leader with her fist still clenched.

“Stay out of this,” she said, her voice filled with anger.

Jao stood his ground. “The spar was meant to be done unarmed, and that naturally includes the use of one’s element.”

She scowled. “He used his element first. I had to resort to mine, or else I would have lost.”

“Be that as it may”—despite the intended meaning of his words, Jao wore a frown as he stole a glance at Tatsuya, who was unable to ignore compunction and looked away—“you are aware of your body’s positive feedback loop when you use your speciality. You can't afford to strain yourself in the name of sparring.”

“Then how am I supposed to train it?!” was her indignant reply.

“You don't train specialities, Leia. I've told you that many times.” Jao’s voice was soft in contrast, yet stern, matching her intensity with understanding. “Either you use it as it was meant to be used, or you cause problems for yourself, and you are on your way to doing just that.”

“What about the spar? I was just about to win for fuck’s sake. Do you want me to lose? I…”

As the back and forth continued, Tatsuya resisted the urge to sigh. He could tell the argument had an air of familiarity; this was not the first time they had fought about this particular issue, and for a moment, he stood in place, trying to decide whether to intervene or to give them some space. However, the atmosphere was still thick with rising tension, and he could see they were on the verge of a fight. As the one that had broken the agreed rules first, he was at fault, and as such, he had to do something before it escalated and possibly rupture the group.

Besides, his knuckles were bleeding, his ribs bruised, his lip split into an oozing gash, and he was panting and sweating from the exertion of the spar. He wouldn't be able to continue, even if he wanted to.

“Alright, I give,” he said, the words gravelly and pained as he forced his battered throat to work. “You won.”

It seemed the wrong thing to do as Leia suddenly cleared the distance between them in an instant, the sharp bark of thunder heralding her arrival. “Don’t be a spirit-damned idiot.” Her eyes flashed. “You don't get to give up until I say—”

A fist caught her jaw with a sickening crack.