Seiko often found herself training alongside Kinjo and Masaaki in the mornings. At first, it was mere coincidence—Kinjo was awake early, and the guards were required to train for at least thirty minutes after breakfast. After the first day, however, she found that the voices were significantly quieter when she was around them, allowing her to focus on training. It caused her to be a bit more awkward in conversations until she was used to it, but she gladly accepted it for the exchange of preventing herself from doing serious damage to anyone or anything. Lord Ozuru didn’t seem pleased whenever he came to watch, however, although he never outright said why.
News came about a battle rather suddenly, one of the generals calling all soldiers to fight early in the morning. Seiko was in the training area with Kinjo and Masaaki at the time, and took her sword with her and began to go to Princess Maenomi. Lord Ozuru stopped her on the way there.
“I want you front and center,” he said firmly. “Unless they get inside the palace walls, you are to fight on the front lines.”
Seiko nodded, moving with some urgency as her voices grew louder. Her own thoughts were drowned by sounds of delight and threats to the attackers. Battle! It’s been so long. Let’s make it grand, little Seiko.
By the time she actually stepped on the battlefield, she had no thoughts of her own—only voices telling her what to do, overwhelming her, to the point where she acted before realizing what she was doing. Every soldier was already engaged by the time she got there, and she focused on fighting those in front of her—anyone who didn’t wear the armor of the royal army.
She took her sword, possessing some kind of ability she wasn’t capable of on her own. She moved forward, attacking those who approached her and fought back. She would lunge forward, cutting them with her blade, and the blood somehow left her more excited to continue.
Seiko wasn’t sure how many people she fought, but she was vaguely aware of how many she killed.She approached an opposing soldier, caught them off guard, and ran her blade across them. Precious few stood up again, and in the moment it was ecstatic—and afterwards, it was terrifying. She had to be held back when the other side retreated and both army’s miko came out to solemnly pray for the dead.
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Although the excitement of battle faded, it never completely dulled. The clearest moment she had was when she recognized she had been injured and the pain caught up to her—suddenly she felt it, and the voices were absolutely silent. In that moment, the joy and empowerment of fighting was lost as well, and she realized how bloody her sword was.
She dropped the weapon immediately and fell. Even though she could think clearly, her thoughts were hazy and running rampant. She couldn’t make sense of it. Eventually, however, the miko who murmured prayer noticed her. Seiko could only remember going back inside the palace, although she knew what Lord Ozuru said to her:
“You truly are a magnificent beast, Tsujihara. I look forward to seeing you fight more.”
…
No one ever actually confirmed why she couldn’t remember much after the battle; there was a gap in her memory from when the battle ended to when she woke up the next morning, and her voices didn’t give any firm answer.
Ozuru was impressed; he let you rest for the remainder of the day. What a generous man. Although Maenomi was worried, and Kinjo and Masaaki know you’re not quite right, now, too. Oh, but it was a glorious battle! Just stay far, far away from the people, and you’ll be satisfied.
Seiko was satisfied to listen to them, at first, except it was nigh impossible to avoid anyone who made the voices quieter. As such, it was nigh impossible to avoid her own thoughts, reminding herself constantly of the battle—of what she did during the battle.
What would Mikka make of this, when she heard? Seiko guessed she would worry, naturally. Ujuro would likely come to keep an eye on her—he was already a soldier, after all, and as long as he agreed with the cause he would fight for it. Lord Ozuru almost seemed proud when he looked at Seiko now, and she was left to wonder if that meant her only use now was to kill. And perhaps it wasn’t exactly that she had killed that bothered her—many soldiers who fought had done the same—but how she killed.
In that moment, while the voices consumed her and her thoughts were not her own, she enjoyedwatching them fall, bleed, and take their last breath. That was what terrified her, and the voices wanted her to forget that fear and go back to fighting despite it.
You’ll feel so much better once you take more blood, they murmured.
Seiko couldn’t even properly protest to the demand, instead trying something of a silent revolt against the things. She didn’t want to listen to them anymore.