“Are you sure, Étienne?”

He refutes my proposition again, shaking his head in a single curt gesture. After dinner between just the both of us, I’d proposed to help him clean and even undertake some other duties of the house. Owing to his unyielding pride and stature, Étienne had refused, operating on the rhetoric of ‘you’d never satisfy my expectations’ while doing a dramatic push of his glasses.

Instead of being useful, therefore, I now find myself returning to my room. Waddling back through the hallway—guided by a lantern of purple flame every ten steps. Maybe, I’ll read a book, I think, and study my French idioms. Maybe I’ll meditate, reflecting on my circumstances and future. Or maybe I’ll do both and more, encompassing an even wider array of pursuits!

“Hehehe.”

I giggle happily to myself. It’s always the small things that bring us joy, and I’m no different. After knowing Ysabeau’s opinions of me, I’ve been finding myself faring a lot better.

Logically speaking—it’s pretty strange. We’ve only known each other for three days, but even so, I’m really happy to know she thinks well of me. And likewise—remembering Earlene feels the same makes me warm inside, too. So, someday, I’ll make it up to them.

Someday, I’ll make them just as happy as I am!

Because if everyone cared this way for each other, then the world would be much better for it!

Cheering myself with that fact, I stride into my room with all the exuberance I can muster—ready to read a book or two.

“Hm?”

My curiosity is piqued by a foreign object. On my bed lies a note—a large sheet of A3 paper with what seems like black scribbles and strange drawings. It hadn’t been there before, so it must’ve been placed during dinnertime. The question is, then, who did it?

When I look at the open window, with all the wind of winter flooding through, the answer reaches me. Somehow, I must’ve let the window open, and they’d climbed in. I don’t recall doing so, but given my delirium, it might’ve been possible, one way or the other.

“Earlene?” I say in a low voice, wondering for what purpose she came.

She seems to be shadowing me or Madame Ysabeau—so, it must be her.

It has to be.

“...”

My breathing becomes slower than usual. I tread slowly, approaching the paper as one would a deadly predator. With a quick swipe, I lift the note by its edges, propping it in front like some map of the world. I soon realise the ‘black scribbles’ are from someone I know all too well.

Hi Yunyun! I miss you! Wanna meet?! ‘Cause if you do, come to Bois du Saint Rosoy at around 20:32, ok?

-Chigetsu:

The text makes me hesitate to even breathe. It takes until the shortness of air and the sudden inhalation of it that I register what’s before me. Chigetsu… She’s here, and not only that, but until a while ago, she was in this very room!

“Chigetsu!”

I call out quietly into the darkness of the garden, now looking more like the depth of an endless void. I begin to take off my dress, changing into more fitting clothing for the confrontation ahead.

Not wanting to waste any longer, I run to the kitchen, hoping to find Étienne.

“Sir Étienne, do you have a map I can borrow?”

He nods and, without a word, heads to the living room. There, he rummages through a wooden drawer and retrieves a map, handing it as a rolled treasure.

“Thank you very much!”

Briefly, I check the grandfather clock. 20:10, it reads.

I rush back to my room. Unfolding the map on the ground, I pinpoint the relative location of my destination in a minute and leap through the window. Halfway to the exit, however, I remember I forgot something and quickly climb back up.

“Focus, Yun!”

Before long, I am truly ready—a jian in one hand and a handful of needles in another.

But their obtrusive nature and my lack of knowledge over the permits for weapon carrying stop me. Giving it some thought, I come up with an idea.

I tuck the jian in my back and the needles into my teddy bear pouch. Then, putting on a puffy winter jacket, hope to cover the former up. If push comes to shove, I’ll just say I have a spine deformity!

“Hooh!”

With an exhale, I leap out the window and make for the exit. Into the streets of Saint-Ys, I run, fixated only on what lies ahead.

“Hey, mister!”

The streets are more crowded than expected. Filled with people of all colours, shapes and sizes.

“Watch where you’re going!”

A winged woman passes me by.

“Eh?”

A man who looks half-bear and half-human gasps in surprise.

“...”

A mime says nothing and mimics shooting a machine gun.

Yet, these sights mean nothing to me. Even if the Jade Emperor himself should descend, I’d say sorry and continue running.

“Bois du Saint Rosoy. Bois du Saint Rosoy. Bois du Saint Rosoy.”

I repeat that name like a mantra. I should be getting close. According to the map, it’s a private park just ten minutes away, so given how much I’ve been running…

“I should be there in two!”

Faster, faster, faster—I run faster than I ever have. That is the speed to which I must reach. The speed to which will guide me to salvation!

“Bois du Saint Rosoy!”

At last, I see it. The looming shadow of acacia, hornbeam, and all manners of trees. Continuing atop a snow-covered path, I run for another minute before stopping altogether. It’s dark here. Save for the overcast moon, shining light in empty clearings, there’s no source of light.

But, truth be told, those moonlit clearings are all I need.

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Because standing there, illuminated in all her glory, is Chigetsu. With her two-metre-long nodachi lifted over the shoulder, white horns protruding from her forehead, and a hand waving in hello, who else can it be?

I take in the sight and mumble, “Chigetsu…” I scan her from head to toe, comparing her to eight months ago—to when I last saw her. Just like before, she has on a white hakama and shirt. And just like before, she wears a black kimono over them, patterned with trumpet-shaped flowers and trailing vines.

“Yunyun.”

I draw my sword.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

I take the needles from my pouch.

“Is it just me, or have your cheeks gotten even more pinch-worthy?”

I steady my footing, tossing my jacket to the side.

“Woah, I can feel the intensity from all the way here! You’re like a supernova, Yunyun! Radiating all that heat and energy—I feel like I’m gonna melt! Poor Chigetsu’s gonna melt into a puddle and stain the snow all red, and you’re gonna have to clean it up!”

The girl’s smile widens and she immediately breaks into laughter. Unable to find the humour in it, I can do nought but watch, raising my sword in defence.

“It’d be like strawberry milk over shaved ice—no, maybe raspberry—yeah. I like raspberry milk more, ‘cause’ even if I’m sure I never had it, I’m pretty sure it’d taste really good! Poor Yunyun’s gonna have to eat all that flavoured shaved ice! And maybe, with some sekihan, too, just for good measure!”

Her laughter echoes into the boundless forest. It stands in stark comparison to the gravity of the situation, coating it in an undertone of madness. From where she stands, there’s around ten steps worth of distance, meaning now is as good a time as any to engage.

Emotion dictates I don’t, however.

“Chigetsu,” I ask in Mandarin. “Why… Why did you kill Grandmaster?”

“Why?” She scratches her chin. “Because it felt like the right thing to do, that’s all.”

“Answer me, Chigetsu! Was it madness that compelled you?!”

“Madness, huh? I wouldn’t say that. Actually, when I did it, I’m pretty sure my mind was clearer than ever. If this was a play and my backstory was revealed, it’d all fall in line, and the audience would be going ‘magnificent, what a tragic heroine!’ and weep for the misfortune of it all.”

“Then why… why did you do it?!”

“Hehehe. Not gonna tell you! You know, seeing a cute boy struggle for your affection is half the fun!”

“Chi-Chigetsu!”

I let loose the five needles from my left hand. Two soars for her eyes, one for her throat, and a final duo for her chest. In reaction, Chigetsu ducks to dodge the three. Bringing her nodachi down in one simultaneous motion, she then parries the two heading for her chest, sending them tumbling like feeble petals.

“Is this a session in acupuncture or a duel?!”

I pay no heed to her insult. Readying my jian, I launch into Lizard Tongue Strikes the Dragonfly, sending seven consecutive thrusts to her face. Immediately after, the sound of seven strikes being parried course through the air.

Using the tip of her massive blade, Chigetsu has sent each of my strikes off course. Such is her skill that she does so without so much as a struggle. In any other case, a sword that large would be offset by its weight, depending on range and power to win.

Here, she dominates my smaller jian, even so, triumphing any semblance of a weight disadvantage.

“Tch!”

I step backwards just out of her range. From that brief exchange alone, I can tell… Chigetsu’s skill hasn’t diminished one bit.

She brings her blade up to remain still in a jōdan, her form and breathing flawless. Meanwhile, I find myself visibly shaken from the previous exchange, still gasping for breath, still struggling to acclimate.

“What’s wrong, Yunyun? Are you gonna take go-no-sen?”

Go-no-sen. The principle of striking after an opponent has committed to an attack.

I had wanted to remain on the defence and goad her attack, drawing the nodachi in and putting Chigetsu off-balance. Of course, Chigetsu had seen through it. And what’s more, there’s no decree that I can actually pull it off—so what do I do?

Then—I see it, a blur of silver, descending from above. As it moves, the sword whistles as if cutting through air itself.

—Mantis Strikes the Cat’s Paw.

I lead in with an in-step to the right, positioning myself for a slash to both her wrists. If this works, I can achieve two things. One, push her wrists (and her blade) to the left, leaving just enough room for me to dodge; and two, end the fight right here. After all, not even Chigetsu can fight with her hands immobilised.

As if she were expecting this all along, Chigetsu simply switches from a left foot-forward stance to the right, parrying my jian off course.

The force is strong. Enough that it wrenches the handle from my fingers, sending the sword to the ground. Having lost my sole weapon, I duck down, leaning forward to retrieve my lifeline.

But when I do so, the weight of Chigetsu’s kick comes for my chin. My world turns on its head. The attack sends me flying. I tumble through the snow like a dung ball, rolling time and time again. Subject to momentum, it takes until my fifth revolution to finally stop, placing me firm on the ground.

“Agh…”

Chigetsu’s figure grows at an alarming speed. In the time it takes me to get up, she is already here, waiting for our second bout. Onward, I step, maintaining a stance for hand-to-hand combat.

Unwilling to stay on the defensive, I launch into Ox Charges the Wolf. The technique propels my right fist forward with the force of every muscle in my body behind it, emphasising speed, power, and brutality. Should it hit, my fist can shatter even stone—making work of all but the mightiest bones.

Responding in kind, Chigetsu replies with none other than Ox Charges the Wolf. Her fist flies through the air and, at contact, collides against the exposed part of my palm at an angle. This slant variation sends my fist in another direction.

Overcome the hard with softness; conquer agitation with tranquillity.

Such is the principle Chigetsu applied, beating me with a fraction of my own force.

I swallow my breath and duck under her impending fist. Changing course, I move my striking arm under her armpit while using my other to seize her wrist. While grasping it, I spin around, putting my back against Chigetsu to draw momentum and leverage.

—Ippon Seoi Nage.

Using my opponent’s own weight, I plan to roll her across my back and send Chigetsu to the ground. Only, I realise my mistake too late. The target of my throw is more mountain than human. Any attempts to throw her makes only my weakness more evident.

Quickly, I backstep, relinquishing the grip altogether. Nevertheless, Chigetsu has an answer to this too. Clutching my waist in an iron-vice grip, Chigetsu leans backwards, arching her back like the Anji Bridge.

“Here comes, here comes, here comes!”

With a few words of self-encouragement, Chigetsu suplexes me into the snow.

“And Chigetsu wins! Scoring a perfect suplex on Twice Ardent Thunder!”

“Not yet!”

How can I be so hopelessly surpassed? What had the past eight months amounted to, if not the knowledge they were in vain? Despairs accumulate in my mind, driving me to an all too desperate corner. Men tend to be innovative on the brink of defeat, and yet, with imminent loss approaching, nothing comes to mind.

Nothing that may turn the outcome of this fate.

Unwilling to accept that, I push my head out of the snow, forgoing my ostrich likeness. With Chigetsu in sight, I aim for a Pangolin Tail Sweeps the Ants—kicking just above her ankle. She jumps. Putting just enough height to dodge it by a negligible margin.

“Chigetsu!”

Qi courses in my dantian. I reroute it to my legs, generating force for Grasshopper Escapes the Wok. Using the ground as leverage, I push with the palm of my hands while kicking simultaneously, sending my feet flying into Chigetsu. Her open palm raises to block.

Scant centimetres before contact, I widen my legs, wrapping around her waist.

“Fighting with you is the best, Yun-chan!”

I raise my torso up, sending fists to Chigetsu’s face. She swats them away. One, two, three, four, five, each batted like a fly by a drifting wind. She counterattacks with a half-hearted punch. Without the proper distance to gain momentum and power, it proves far too easy to intercept. The moment it crosses that threshold—ever leaning over her hips, I move in, grabbing her arm and leveraging it as a pivot. Holding her wrist to my chest, I unwrap my legs around her waist and put them around her neck.

—Triangle Choke.

Chigetsu smiles eagerly. “This one’s Samsere’s, isn’t it? It’s like an international buffet of martial arts here!” Her hand presses against the inside of my leg. Slowly, surely, she pries my leg free, loosening my balance.

All I can do now is watch in abject understanding. Watching as Chigetsu charges backward, slamming me against the bark of a nearby tree. Bracing myself, I struggle to maintain my grip as Chigetsu slams me time and time again, ejecting snow and branches from above.

After the fifth impact, my hold reaches its breaking point. Realising this, Chigetsu scurries forward, grips my two shins, and dangles me in the air. En route to another throw, I feel myself being spun in several successions, each one quicker than the last and each one raising me higher and higher.

“Giant Swing!”

Chigetsu chuckles as she lets loose. I get sent flying. Wind compresses against me like a coffin. My ragdoll self glides through the air, descending in an ungainly fashion. Impact. The familiar chill of the snow. Then, rendered null by the colder sight of what is to come, of Chigetsu’s ever-growing shape.

“Yunyun!”

Sprinting across the snow, she pounces on me like a leopard, leaping and fixing my wrists in place.