It was a surreal experience, being stabbed in the gut. Tenjo could clearly see the blade, easily feel the hilt when she touched it with her hand. The blood that was slowly spreading from the wound, hard steel in her flesh, it was all undeniable.

Despite that, something about it didn't feel like it had really happened to her. Maybe it was the lack of pain, something that normally instantly accompanied being injured. Maybe it was just that she couldn't process having been impaled by an attack that she thought she had avoided.

Regardless, she was far calmer about it than she had any right to be. With that location and the thin shape of the wound, her aura should stop the bleeding relatively quickly. In that case, the smartest thing to do would be to pull out the sword before it could cause any more damage inside her.

As her hand closed on the hilt, Tenjo was overwhelmed by a wave of pain that made her vision flash white and her knees buckle. The next thing she knew, she was on the ground, the offending saber only a fraction of an inch farther out than before, and a burning pain in her side that made the rest of the world around her distant and unimportant.

She forced her shaking hands back up to the hilt, and clamped them on it again. The pain was less this time, but with each second the blade slowly slid out her was jaw clenched shut tight enough to make her teeth grind together, every muscle budging under her skin to the point the veins in her face stood out in detail.

It was the same burning pain from when she had been stabbed before, the unnatural sensation of flesh and muscle not being attacked where they should be, the nerves open and exposed so that every slight movement, each little twitch, was an agony onto itself.

And then the tip came free, the steel clattering to the ground while Tenjo gasped for air. She didn't know how long it was until the pain had faded away to a level she could tolerate, the currents of aura inside her working to patch to nerves and veins before anything else.

When she stood up there was a puddle of her own blood left on the ground, matching the larger one left by her opponent's corpse. A different kind of pain appeared in her chest; a steady dull ache that made it hard to breathe.

She had killed another person. It was the same situation all over again. She could feel it, the smile that had covered her face and the excitement that had pumped through her, gradually overcoming everything else until the only thoughts in her head were those of the exchange of blows, morality and justification both melted away.

Tenjo could justify it again, of course. It was self-defense, it was a fair duel, she had already been stabbed, it was life or death. But those excuses all rang false somewhere inside her, even though they were all perfectly logical.

She could have cut elsewhere, Tenjo knew. She could have left her opponent alive, aiming for a less vital spot or to cripple or disarm. But instead, her body moved into the strike that she had honed thousands of times before, and sliced apart the vital elements preserving another person's fragile life.

It was stupid, she knew. Tenjo had spent her entire childhood learning how to fight, knowing full well the goal of that was to test those skill in real combat, to cut down another person with a real blade.

But she had trained her body to the point where it collapsed, beaten her technique into her very soul until it became second nature to swing a blade, without every truly understanding the path that she was putting herself on.

The tears that had started to well up in her eyes from the pain hadn't left with it, running freely down her cheeks and drawing trails through the splattered droplets of blood. Emotions welled up inside her body in response,

The sword at her side was the same as it had always been. As much as she wanted to blame the weapon, to call it repulsive and evil, it was just a piece of steel. It couldn't hurt anyone, not any more than a rock by the side of the road.

No, she was the one who had done that. Two lives gone, and Tenjo couldn't help but feel their weight weighing down on her. It was something that would sound foolish to anyone else, to be upset about winning a duel, or to feel guilty for killing to save herself.

In that moment though, she wanted nothing more than to give up on swordsmanship, and to find any other path, any at all. To go back and ignore all the stories of glory, the feeling of responsibility to follow in her family trade, and the longing to be the type of blade master that she had admired.

Now she didn't really have a choice anymore.

She wiped her sleeve across her eyes, the already stained fabric coming back with more blood, this time mixed with tears. Her sword was being swung to get back her brother. Even if her own life wasn't worth this killing, she couldn't afford to let Daichi suffer some horrible fate because she was too weak to fight those who had taken him.

Another burst of pain shot into her side as Tenjo stood, not nearly as strong as before but still enough to make her wince. She picked up the sword that was still coated with a layer of her own blood, and wiped it off before letting it rest in Yumiko's hand.

Her own sword was still lying on the ground where she had dropped it when she fainted. She picked it up, her aura causing the blood on it to fall away as it poured into the steel and expanded out around it.

Tenjo sheathed it, and then gave a deep bow to her fallen opponent. Plenty of things to say swam into her mind. An apology, an assurance that she had fought well, a vow to remember her. But her throat closed and no words came into her mouth.

Instead, she just looked at the dying look frozen on the other woman's face, and gave one final bow before hardening her face and turning away.

As she left the courtyard, it was though despite winning that battle of life or death, a little bit of her had still been left behind.