CHAPTER ONE: #1

Han’s feet wobbled under his weight as he attempted to stand. He fell on his hands and knees. His strength drained out of him, twinges of pain nipped at his thighs, and probably a few broken ribs too.

Funny how he didn’t feel the wounds when they first landed, only now when the whole debacle ended. He would certainly have taken twice as many hits had Koto not been there to watch his back. He gasps for air.

The village bullies lay sprawled on their backs around him—six of them. Under better circumstances he would have celebrate in triumph. Roeff himself was almost twice their size and built like a full-grown man. The two boys beat him to a pulp.

Roeff was the one who set them off on it. When he had the opening strike on Han. He snuck up on him from behind Han with a heavy board. The pain in his thighs was from one of the stable boys. Han misjudged the distance when kicking him tearing it in an unusual way.

Koto ran towards his injured friend, yelling out, “Han!” Han coughed and asked if he was okay. “You’re the one who’s hurt. You can’t even stand.” Koto said.

“Of course, I can.” Han heaved himself up resisting the pain and trying to wash the grimace away from his face. His leg wobbled uncontrollably, and the pain came stronger than ever, accompanied by a pulsing headache. It was as if a flood gate had suddenly opened, and the pain was released all at once.

He braced for a fall that never came. Koto grabbed him and placed his shoulder under Han’s arm, hoisting him up.

Han coughed unceasingly, feeling a burning sensation in his chest. Han said, "I must've eaten something rotten my stomach is burning. I can’t…” He said it as an excuse.

Koto replied, “It doesn’t seem like that kind of cough. You are not ill, Han. You are beaten up, just as bad as any of them. Come on, we need to get away from here.” Koto took a trudging step, dragging Han with him.

Han tried to follow along as best as he could, wincing with every step taken. All his weight rested on Koto; in fact, everything rested on him.

“You didn’t have to help me. They came for me. I could’ve handled them.” Han said.

Koto: “And what kind of friend would that make me if I left you to fight alone?” Koto was panting under the burden. “That’s the second time this week. They’re looking, you found yourself a target, why is that?”

Han’s words came punctuated with coughs: “I don’t know. Who knows why someone like Roeff does what he does? He probably wanted to test his might.” Han never wanted to fight anyone. How could he have known that a small argument would escalate this far? To gather up arms against him and prey on the outskirts of the village. He wished the debacle was done and over. He’ll keep his head low next time—lower than before.

They followed the path. Han was getting dizzier with each passing second. His coughs came from deep within his lungs and throat.

“What?” Han asked Koto, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Koto explained, “That’s blood. You’re hacking up blood; I’m taking you to Aoi.”

Han didn’t speak for the rest of the journey. He heard Koto’s words muffled like he was under water: “Stay with me, Han.” His feet somehow followed, guided only by an instinct as his head pulled back and forth on its own. Koto pleaded with Han, “We’re almost there. Stay awake."

Time went by unnoticed, with Han dozing in and out of consciousness. He recognized the churning sound of water on rocks. He knew the brook they were at. “We made it,” he thought.

He swallowed air with a parched throat like it was water. He dropped against Koto, giving up. Aoi stood by her hut; she recognized them at once and descended the porch. “What’s wrong, children?” she asked worriedly.

“Nothing. I’m just…” Han’s words were cut short as the pangs of pain pulsated when he tried to speak.

“Han’s hurt. We need your help, Aoi.” Bellowed Koto.

Aoi came down in a dash, something atypical for a woman of her age to be so nimble. She was in her fifties, gray-haired, and cut to her shoulder. She wore an old-timey dress, almost maiden-like. She grabbed Han under the armpit opposite Koto and placed her hand on his forehead. “He’s burning up; quick, let’s get him inside."

Something eased inside of Han once he knew that two firm grips led him instead of one. He found himself more inclined to resign as his body weakened. Rather than hoisting and helping him to walk, Aoi and Koto finished the rest of the distance by carrying him. His eyes closed and opened without any hint as to how much time had passed.

He didn’t feel himself being lowered onto the cushioned bed; he only heard Aoi telling Koto to do it gently. He didn’t feel the towel resting on his forehead; he only heard Aoi rinsing it in a bowl of water and squeezing it after use.

The pain knocked him unconscious, and he slumped to the nightmares.

He woke up many times sweating. However, as the shutters remained closed, he couldn’t say how much time had passed between them. He screamed at the top of his lungs when he felt Aoi placing an ointment on his wound. He heard her ordering Koto to collect some herbs. Although that part could have been a dream, he didn’t know for certain.

On his third awakening—or maybe it was the fourth one—he thought that he heard Edward’s voice. Aoi didn’t even let him cross the threshold; the guest’s voice came stifled, and he only heard Aoi saying, “He just needs to rest. Worry not, he’ll be up and skipping tomorrow."

The other voice seemed unconvinced, and Aoi added, “You won’t help anyone by being here. He just needs to rest.” The door slammed shut, and no one entered after—no one to his knowledge. He only heard his coarse breathing thereafter as his head was propped up to gulp on some tasteless broth.

*

Han’s fever broke as the sun rose on Monday. He wasn’t skipping as promised, but at least he could prop himself up on his elbows with fewer grunts and no longer have screams of agony.

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He slowly tossed the blanket away from his feet. He wore an ill-fitting tunic that wasn’t his and felt the bandages in many layers around his stomach.

The room he was sheltered in was spick-and-span. Aoi left one taper and one incense stick lit; the wafting smell soothed him as he took a deep inhale. Her straw palliasse was the only thing that seemed out of place; she probably slept there to watch him since he took her own bed.

He winced as his feet touched the floorboards, hesitated for a moment before standing, and cradled his stomach. He wanted to leave this place, and Han was right now.

As if by some unseen power that made Aoi realize his intent, the door snapped open with her on the other side before he could leave. “You better not be thinking about leaving the bed, Han.” She snapped at him.

She hurried to his aid and led him back. Han noticed the dark spots under her eyes and the kind of stress she was under. She lay awake with one eye open, watching the boy; she never slept, or rather, couldn’t sleep.

"I'm not leaving.” Han said,"I just wanted to sit outside.”

She rearranged the pillows behind him, pushed his feet back to the bed, and felt his forehead. “Better than yesterday,” she muttered to herself and nodded. “Still, you won’t be leaving this bed today. Not a chance.”

Han allowed her to recline him backward, supported by the pillows. He was sitting half way up, against the wall and pillow. It was a comfy and fitting compromise. She then wrapped. In the blanket, Han said, “I left water for you here." She pointed at the nightstand and said, “You have no reason to get up, understand?”

Han nodded. “I won’t. Thank you, Aoi. I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

“If you want to thank me, you can do it by steering clear and away from trouble next time.” She shook her head. “You could have died, Han. And I heard about the recent brawl before.”

“That’s not the same,” Han countered. “I fell from a tree; it wasn’t a fight.” He was clearly lying to Aio; she saw right through it.

“Right, of course you fell from another tree. You sound like a monkey, not a good one either.” Aoi was unconvinced. "Listen, Han, I know you boys have that spring of youth and whatnot. But I am serious; now more than ever, you aren’t children anymore. You need to keep your head low. I’ve heard this rumor going around.

Aoi cut off, and footsteps approached the door. A thud came from the door, and with a squeal, Koto pushed his way in.

He had in his hands a bundle covered in cloth. Han wore the same clothes as before; his hair was neat and tied in a bun without a single strand sticking out. His dark brown eyes lit up, seeing Han was awake. “See? I told you he’d be fine.” He said to Aoi with a grin, “He’s alright? Right…”

Han smiled back and tried to speak, but Aoi cut him off before he could say a word: “No thanks to you." She said, “You were supposed to be here yesterday and be my helper. Han needs more rest now, so get out here.”

Koto leaned on the table, his smile slowly draining from his face. He unfurled the wrap on his package. “I have something special,” Koto said. “It’s for you, to help you gather your strength.” He turned to Aoi and said, "For you too, Aoi.”

Inside the clothing baggage was gold, expensive herbs, and pill-like medicines, along with a few neat trinkets.

Aoi spoke what was also on Han’s mind: “Oh? And where the hell did you get all that?”

Han sighed and said, “You stole all this from the village, didn’t you?”

“What? No.” He shook his head. Han raised his eyebrow and focused on his friend. “Well, yes and no.”

“I was right!” Han said it too loudly, injuring himself.

Aoi shook her head in aggravation. “Yes, and no? So did you steal this or not?”

“Yes,” he replied honestly. Aoi threw her arms in the air, rolling her eyes. "But..." he said, “not from the village. What do you guys think? I'm a monster. I received all this from noblemen. And when I say “received,” I do mean stole. From noblemen. Inside the kingdom walls”

“What did you say?"

“Within the kingdom walls?” he repeated.

Aoi’s eyes darted from Koto to Han with tightened lips, and Han met them. It wouldn’t hurt if these recent events were known to as few people as possible. Roeff and his friends would bury the hatchet with the two orphans if they were to be paid off. All's well that ends well, I suppose.

“You’re an idiot!” Aio and Han said it in unison.

Koto left as soon as he came. But before leaving, he said, “I’ll be back,” like some sort of robot. “Take that as a little gift, and more will come. I have something important to tell you later, Han. See you.”

“Wait, don’t leave like that.” Han said.

Han looked to his side and clenched his jaw. “Where could he have gotten all this?” Aoi raised an eyebrow and left the silence to settle. Koto didn’t offer any help to explain, “What’s so important?”

A scary thought ran through his mind. Roeff was just telling this story about the Atkins group; all he said was that they were the kingdom’s military force, and they caught snot-nosed thieves like Koto. Hunted thieves down as if they were cattle.

Aoi came back with a cup of water and studied Han for a moment. She said, “As I was saying before, you are not children anymore. He’s going to get the Atkins group to call on himself. He needs to keep the theft to a bare minimum. Take only what you need. That’s what I taught all of you.” Aoi tilted her head back and sighed, “Alright, be it as it may, you must. You—all of you—need to keep your heads down, especially these days. The Atkins group is the deal. There’s this rumor that has been circulating, village folk saw the “#1” skulking around in the neighboring hamlet.”

She noticed she had the boy’s undivided attention. Han hunched toward her, at the edge of his seat. Aoi pursed her lips and said, “No, stop that. You are a grownup; the #1 does not relate to the fairy tales you used to hear; the #1 means nothing but trouble." “You know there’s bad blood between him and the monarchs. He fights, stirs trouble, and moves on while simple people like us deal with the consequences and the aftermath of "numbers' choices. There is no faster way to gibbet than theft from noblemen; I'm worried.”

Aoi was still unsatisfied with what she saw. They were both deep in thought. Han figured that she wanted her words to leave him horrified, but hearing the legends, he was exhilarated.

"Heed my words, hell boils under the #1 swordsman's feet; wherever he goes, chaos follows, and trouble is nothing but a normal day around him.”

"Sounds just like me, eh, Aio?” Han smiled, trying to break the tension.

She looked away. Aoi’s expression was the farthest from amusement. His comment earned another hour of scolding about how he should never take such matters lightly, and the whole discussion repeated itself again.

He thought about how promising it had to be to be the #1 swordsman in the world. The fame, the money, and the respect. He didn’t want the money or the fame; he wanted to be respected. Honestly, he could do without the title too; he just wanted to be looked at in a new light. But he would be lying to say those things didn't entice him.

He was alright with a sword; he had very little experience when compared to the top 100 swordsmen in the world, but with enough smarts, he could be a part of the top 50 and stay there.

Among the top 5 swordsman, only 3 were known to the public. The fifth is Serizawa Kamo of the Shinsengumi. The fourth was Ko Yoshitsune, the descendant of legendary Minato Yoshitsune. And the third is an Englishman, Fiore Dei Leberi. The numbers 1 and 2, identities had yet to be discovered. They say that #1 was so deadly and strong that he could rival a nation himself.

Han found it funny that someone could really believe another human could do such a silly thing. One person vs. a whole nation. They say the #1 could slit a mountain in half with a single swing from his sword. "That's impossible," Han thought.