Chapter 12.

“Combat is a high-risk situation of stress and violence that involves confrontation between two or more sides. To understand it and be prepared, every student must know the following truths about it. It is unpredictable and chaotic. No two combat situations are alike, and plans can change rapidly according to circumstances. You must be prepared to adapt to the unexpected and make quick decisions under pressure. Moreover, it is intense and violent. You face the possibility of suffering injuries, mutilation, or death, as well as inflicting harm or killing the enemy.”

“Combat”

The War

Supreme Commander, Ono Ryo

Time flew at the academy like an arrow shot by an expert archer. Days followed one after another without pause, weeks followed in their step, and soon came the month that all students both feared and yearned for: evaluation month, when the most advanced could prove their worth and aspire to a higher rank.

Ritsu had learned many things during that time, but not all of them had pleased him. Military Discipline and Confucian Classics were the most tedious subjects he had to endure.

He wasn’t interested in rules, regulations, or traditions.

He had already studied all that for the imperial exam, and going over the same material seemed like a waste of time. He preferred to dedicate himself to what truly passionate him: reiki.

Reiki was the center of his life, and also his favorite classes. Study of Reiki was the most important, where Professor Norio taught him the secrets of that mysterious and powerful force. Norio was one of the few professors who treated him with respect and kindness, and had even told him he had talent for reiki. Ritsu didn’t know if it was true or just empty praise, but he felt flattered nonetheless.

It was comforting to hear something good once in a while.

Tsubo Control was another subject where he could practice with reiki, though in a more subtle and delicate way. It involved manipulating pressure points in the body to heal or harm, as desired. Professor Hikari was a good teacher, though a bit cold and impersonal. She didn’t pay much attention to Ritsu, but she didn’t bother him either.

They had a professional and distant relationship.

Herbology was his third favorite subject, though also the most dangerous. Professor Hisoka was crazy, but a brilliant kind of crazy. He knew everything there was to know about plants, their properties, their uses, their risks. His class was fascinating but also risky. You never knew what potion he would prepare or what effects it would have.

Ritsu had learned not to volunteer for anything and to stay away from the most poisonous plants.

Military Strategy and Tactics was hell, as always. He hated that class. Not because it was difficult or boring, but because Professor Soda detested him. Soda was a good teacher, he knew a lot about history and war, but he had a harsh and severe character. And due to Ritsu’s social status, he had made him his scapegoat.

No matter what he did, Soda always found a way to humiliate him, criticize him, mock him. He gave him the worst grades, asked him the hardest questions, assigned him the longest and most complex assignments. It was constant torture, and he didn’t know how to escape it.

The last assignment he had given them had been hell. They had to write a treatise on the Shogunate era and its fortified castles as defensive methods. It was an interesting topic, but also very broad and detailed. Ritsu had to spend ten nights in the library, along with Shinji and Shiori, to finish the damn work.

Fortunately, his friends had helped him a lot. They had shared information, ideas, opinions. They had worked as a team, though each had written their own treatise. In the end, their works had turned out similar, but not identical. They had their own style and approach.

Professor Soda had to admit their works were good. He had passed Shiori with honors, praising her clarity and depth. He had passed Shinji with a decent grade, recognizing his originality and creativity. And he had passed Ritsu... with the minimum, without giving him any praise or comment.

Ritsu knew that was the best he could expect. He had feared Soda would fail him just out of spite. But at least he had passed, and that was a victory.

A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

However, that didn’t seem to have improved Soda’s mood.

On the contrary, each day he seemed more angry and bitter. Every class was torture for him, having to endure his hateful looks and words of contempt.

After Soda’s class, he and Shiori headed to the next classroom, sitting at their desks.

“How are things with Professor Soda?” asked Shiori while looking at him with understanding eyes.

Ritsu sighed, his shoulders dropping.

“Same as always... bad. That man hates me, I swear.”

“Don’t get discouraged,” she responded softly. “The advancement exam is soon. After that, maybe you won’t have to see him anymore.”

“Or maybe I will,” he argued pessimistically. “He’s capable of interfering to prevent me from taking the exam just out of spite.”

Shiori shook her head.

“You’re brilliant in Military Strategy and Tactics, you know that well. And if he really wanted to fail you, he would have done it on the Shogunate work.”

Soda didn’t see it that way. He only saw him as an intruder, a usurper, a beggar.

Maybe he was jealous of his talent, or maybe he feared being surpassed. Or maybe he was just a bad man who enjoyed causing harm.

“You’re right, I know I’m not bad,” he admitted. “But Professor Soda only sees in me what he wants to see... a nobody who doesn’t deserve to be here. He demands twice as much from me just because of who I am.”

He remained silent for a moment.

The memory of all the humiliations he had suffered in that class filled him with rage.

“In the last assignment, we put in equal effort and delivered something of similar complexity. But he still gave me the worst grade! It’s not fair, Shiori. He just wants to humiliate me.”

She took his hand and squeezed it gently.

“Don’t let others’ bitterness cloud your light. In the end, Professor Soda will have to accept that you’re one of his best students.”

Shinji suddenly entered the room with a bag of sweets in his hand, as he usually did.

Unlike him, Shinji was always in a good mood.

“Hey guys!” he greeted them enthusiastically, approaching them. “How are you?”

“Good,” said Shiori with a smile.

“Bad,” growled Ritsu with a frown.

Shinji looked at him curiously.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Is it because of Professor Soda?”

Ritsu nodded.

“Yeah... he’s an idiot.”

Shinji shrugged.

“We know that. But don’t pay attention to him. You’re better than him.”

Ritsu managed a slight smile.

“I guess.”

Shinji winked at him.

“Cheer up friend, look, I’m going to give you a gift.”

He took out a sweet from the bag and offered it to him.

“Here. It’s your favorite.”

Ritsu took it and looked in the bag.

It was true. They were cinnamon rolls with chocolate, his favorites.

He loved the sweet and spicy taste of cinnamon, and the creamy and bitter contrast of chocolate.

It was an exquisite treat.

“We went to the cafeteria before coming here, there wasn’t a single one left. How did you get them?” he asked in surprise.

Shinji laughed mischievously.

“Girls’ dormitories!” he confessed, waving his hands.

Shiori suddenly stood up and hit him with one of her scrolls.

“Idiot!” she shouted while slapping him. “I told you to stop wandering around there!”

Shinji shrugged, still laughing.

“Ow, ow!” complained Shinji between laughs, trying to dodge. “What do you want me to do? It’s the only way to get these rolls. They guard them like gold. They have a secret stash in their kitchens!”

Shiori looked at him reproachfully.

“Aren’t you ashamed?” she scolded. “Stealing sweets from the girls?”

Shinji shook his head.

“I don’t steal anymore,” he said. “I trade. I give them other things in exchange for their rolls.”

“What things?” asked Shiori, skeptical.

Shinji smiled mischievously.

“Things girls like,” he said. “Like flowers, perfumes, jewelry...”

“Jewelry?” repeated Shiori, incredulous. “Where do you get jewelry from?”

Shinji shrugged again.

“Here and there,” he said. “I have my sources.”

Shiori looked at him suspiciously.

“Don’t tell me you steal jewelry too,” Shiori rolled her eyes.

Shinji took offense.

“Of course not,” he denied with his hands. “I don’t steal anything anymore. I only trade. The jewelry is fake, but they don’t know that. I buy them from one of the secretaries who makes them with glass and metal. They’re very pretty, but they’re worthless.”

Shiori shook her head.

“You’re a trickster,” she said. “And a liar. One day they’ll catch you and punish you.”

Shinji laughed as if that didn’t matter to him.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m very careful. And besides, it’s worth it. Look what delicious rolls I got. Want one?”

He offered the bag to Shiori, who rejected it disdainfully.

“No thanks,” she said. “I can eat them with the other girls and I don’t want to eat anything you got through deception.”

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Shinji shrugged.

“Suit yourself,” he said. “More for me. And for Ritsu. Right, Ritsu?”

Ritsu nodded. He had already eaten one of the rolls Shinji had given him, and it had tasted like glory.

He didn’t care how he had gotten it, he only cared that he had given it to him.

“Thanks Shinji,” he said, putting another piece of roll in his mouth. “You’re a good friend.”

At that moment, the door burst open and Katsuo entered, followed by Juro and another of his thugs.

In terms of bullies, things hadn’t changed much. Juro had lost his status as leader and only barked when Katsuo ordered. Katsuo had recovered from his wounds and, although he was no longer so defiant with the professors, he still looked for any excuse to bother, insult, or threaten him.

But thanks to Shiori and Shinji’s presence, he wasn’t afraid anymore. Only pity and contempt.

Katsuo and his lackeys approached where they were with firm steps and challenging looks.

“Look what we have here,” said Katsuo, pointing at the rolls. “Looks like these rats have found something to gnaw on.”

“Yeah, looks like it,” growled Juro, imitating his master’s voice.

“How about sharing some with us?” said Katsuo, taking one of the rolls and putting it in his mouth.

“Sorry, guys,” explained Shinji, with an innocent smile. “But this roll is special. It’s not for everyone.”

“Oh, really?” said Katsuo, frowning. “And what’s so special about it?”

“Well, it’s made with a secret ingredient,” said Shinji, winking at Ritsu.

He didn’t know what he was plotting, but he played along.

“A secret ingredient?” repeated Juro, confused.

Shinji leaned toward them, lowering his voice as if he were about to reveal a great mystery.

“It’s made with... dog poop,” said Shinji, letting out a laugh.

It was then that he saw how Shiori unleashed a flow of reiki from her hands. In the blink of an eye, the roll they had stolen turned into a viscous mass that dripped between their fingers. The chocolate melted into sticky mud and the sugar turned to sand. The resulting stench was enough to turn stomachs.

It was nauseating.

“That’s disgusting!” exclaimed Katsuo, furious. “You’ll pay for this!”

Katsuo spat out the piece of roll he had in his mouth and raised his fist, ready to hit Shinji. But before he could do it, a boy came running into the classroom.

“Sit down, sit down!” he yelled while running to a desk. “The new professor is coming.”

Katsuo lowered his arm, giving them a poisoned look.

“You’ll pay for this,” he muttered between his teeth before going to sit down.

A new professor. All of this was due to one of the unexpected news that had occurred at the academy. A new subject had been added to the curriculum, and all students had to take it, regardless of rank. It was called “War Combat,” and it promised to teach them the most advanced reiki techniques.

Some were enthusiastic about the idea, others were skeptical, but no one could deny it was a unique opportunity. That day was their first class and everyone had arrived early, even those who didn’t in other subjects.

Suddenly, a dry noise broke the silence. Something had hit the door hard, making everyone jump.

The handle turned slowly, and the door opened with a creak. Through the threshold appeared a middle-aged man, with disheveled hair, deep dark circles under his eyes, and a cane in his hand. He limped slightly, and his face showed a grim expression.

He wasn’t the type of person they had imagined as a combat professor.

The man paused for a moment outside the classroom, as if waiting for something. Then, without warning, he jumped in and shouted in a hoarse voice:

“ATTENTION!”

Everyone jumped in their seats. The man let out a sarcastic laugh while advancing toward the platform, leaning on his cane. Each step resonated on the floor like a drum beat.

It seemed like an eternity from when he entered until he reached his lectern.

“You won’t need those today,” was the first thing he said, pointing disdainfully at the scrolls on the desks. “Today you won’t learn anything from dusty books or theories. Today you’re going to learn what real combat is.”

Next, he pulled out a list from his pocket and started taking attendance. His voice was harsh and cutting, and every now and then it was interrupted by a dry and painful cough. This went on for a few minutes until he finished naming all those present.

When he finished the list, he put away the paper and looked at them severely.

“Well, you’re all here, that’s good!” he exclaimed. “This might be the most important lesson of the year for you, or perhaps the most memorable. But first I’m going to tell you something you might not know: I didn’t ask to come here! Superior Supervisor Miyagawa dragged me out of the mental asylum where they had me locked up, gagged and tied like a beast. Do you know why? Because only a mad dog like me can show you the true horrors of battle!”

“Superior Supervisor, Hajime Miyagawa?” he wondered. According to what he knew, it was rare for high officials to intervene so directly.

Something important must be happening to have to send this man.

The professor let out a horrible laugh. Several students turned pale and shrank in their seats.

“You probably don’t know who he is, but I’ll tell you that he’s one of the most powerful men in the world, and he controls this academy and many other things,” he explained, raising his cane and making a broad gesture. “Oh, he and I know each other very well,” he hissed. “We were companions in the old days; he in the rear moving the strings, me in the vanguard, gutting enemies in the red mud of the trench. What a dynamic duo we made!”

The professor’s bulging eyes looked into the distance.

“But then came the betrayal. The cowardly backstab when I was no longer useful to him. He threw me to the wolves to save his reputation,” he spat with hatred. “Although of course, guys like him don’t like to get their hands dirty. That’s what people like me are for... or like you will soon be.”

The professor licked his cracked lips, savoring.

“Oh yes, now ‘the great Miyagawa’ in his infinite mercy has decided to give me another chance to ‘redeem myself’ by training you. And believe me when I say I plan to enjoy every second...”

The professor pulled out a dirty flask from the folds of his cloak and took a long drink, with trembling hands.

“Let’s see. That cowardly snake has told me you are ‘exemplary’ students. That you master the main fundamentals of reiki: tsubo control, elemental affinities, basic techniques...” He made a mocking grimace. “But he also told me you lack something crucial: real combat experience!”

He gave them a twisted smile that chilled them to the bone.

“I’m not talking about friendly duels or boring simulations. I’m talking about situations where your lives hang by a thread! Where you have to unleash all your power to survive. Where you can watch your enemies writhe as they’re burned by your fire, bleed out when a gust of wind slices their throat... or drown when their lungs fill with water. That’s what I’m going to teach you! War combat!”

They all looked at each other in surprise.

He didn’t understand much of this. Wasn’t this supposed to be taught in the higher ranks? What was a professor like this doing in a bottom-tier class?

“I know what you’re thinking. That this is madness. That you’re not ready. Wrong!” he shouted, hitting his temple with his fist. “This is the most important thing you’ll learn in your life! Because reiki isn’t a pretty game. It’s absolute power! And power... power changes you.”

The professor paused and ran his hand through his hair. His eyes were dark and penetrating, seeming to have seen more than anyone could imagine.

“Perhaps you don’t know who I am either,” he continued in a guttural voice. “My name is Heihachiro Oda. I was a general in the Western Army during the last war. I survived a hundred battles and retired with more scars than years.”

He tore off his tattered, filthy shirt, revealing an emaciated torso crossed with horrific scars.

“Retirement isn’t common among war commanders. Most die torn apart on the battlefield, poisoned by some traitor, or consumed by madness after summoning too much reiki.” His gaze got lost in emptiness again. “I’ve seen things that would make the bravest person’s hair stand on end. Things that would freeze the blood in your veins!”

Suddenly he focused his gaze on them, like a hawk that had spotted a small rodent.

“But I survived. And do you know why? Because to survive, you must be willing to do ANYTHING. Anything.” He emphasized the word, syllable by syllable.

Ritsu remembered the propaganda stories he had heard about the war in Soda’s class, about the atrocities that were committed, about the horrors that were unleashed. He remembered the names of the heroes and villains, the victors and the vanquished.

And among them, Oda’s name stood out as one of the most feared and respected.

“But I’m not here to tell you about my feats, nor to give you moral lessons,” Oda explained. “I’m here to teach you how to survive. Survive your enemies... the treacherous rats disguised as comrades... and the whispering madness in your pathetic minds! Because war combat isn’t just about strength, or skill, or strategy. It’s about will. Will to do whatever necessary to win. Will to endure any torment just to see another dawn!”

He lunged toward the blackboard, stumbling, with drool dripping from his dry lips. Then, he hit the chalk surface with both fists, sending a shower of dust and white fragments flying.

“Peace is an illusion, a merciful lie we tell ourselves so we can sleep at night!” he roared. “But war lurks in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to show its true face.”

He ran a hand through his tangled hair, making it even messier.

“But I won’t talk about politics or history today. No, I’m here to reveal to you the darkest secrets of reiki: the power to kill, torture, and mutilate like the most bloodthirsty demons!”

He let out a demented laugh that echoed off the walls like the howl of a wild beast.

“Oh, yes... Techniques to tear pulsing flesh, to crush bones and remove still-beating organs. Even to shatter minds with the whisper of your own voice... I’m not talking about pathetic and subtle techniques. I’m talking about brutal and lethal arts! And believe me... The sensation of power that emanates from them can be as intoxicating as the finest liquor.”

He made a dramatic pause, allowing the silence to stretch like the taut string of a bow about to release an arrow.

“Imagine, for a moment... The ability to rip out a man’s heart with a single word. To dominate his will with a whisper, to induce his skin to rebel against him with a simple touch...” his voice became almost hypnotic.

Another silence, this time preceded by a gesture from the professor. In a sudden movement, he lifted his tunic to his waist, revealing a dark wooden leg, full of notches and deep cracks.

“I lost this leg in Cathay after an ambush at the border! Even a high commander like me can fall to a miserable surprise attack... But this wasn’t a common amputation! Oh no... this was the work of fearsome blood reiki. Look at it well! Do you see the difference? It’s impossible to heal! Blood reiki causes a living necrosis that prevents any regeneration. It twists and deforms flesh like hungry worms! Blood vessels take such repugnant forms that not even the best healer can reconstruct them!”

Everyone looked in horror at Professor Oda’s “leg.” Some turned pale, others covered their mouths, others looked away.

“The responsible one was a Cathayan master of the most advanced arts... he used his abominable powers to destroy my leg and leave a... a deformed and filthy thing. I could almost hear his macabre laughter while my flesh tore and my bones cracked! The pain was indescribable, but the worst came after, with the corruption spreading day by day, eating away at what little remained... that’s why I have this pathetic wooden leg!”

Even he felt uncomfortable. It was a frightful sight; a reminder of how cruel war could be.

The professor covered his “leg” and started ranting again.

“Those charlatans who call themselves masters in the Forbidden City are frauds! They would only teach you useless tricks against insignificant attacks! They would be content to keep you mired in the most absurd ignorance, like sheep walking calmly to slaughter. They would pretend that war doesn’t exist, that it’s a nightmare you can wake up from! All those decorated clowns who swarm in palaces and temples, they would like to erase war like erasing a stain! They treat it as something nonexistent, a shadow without form or name.”

The professor waved his cane with disdain.

“But war is real, ignorant ones! More terrible than your tiny minds can conceive! Raising shields and deflecting rays will do nothing. There are techniques that will destroy your souls, that will make your blood boil until it evaporates, that will turn your skin against yourselves! Shields against that? Ha! Perhaps you think I’m crazy, that I’m just saying things to scare you! Fools! There are ways to kill with reiki so horrifying that even I don’t know them all, and I’ve searched for them tirelessly!”

It was official. Oda was as mad as a hatter.

One of the students raised a trembling hand, his face pale with fear.

“B-but master... Emperor Renzai banned that knowledge after the war with Cathay... Aren’t we breaking the law by even talking about this?”

A deranged laugh emerged from the professor.

“The law! Imbeciles! Do you think I care about the laws of weak men? Emperor Renzai banned that knowledge, yes, but that’s nothing more than ink on paper. The war isn’t over! The Cathayans crave our destruction, and there are other forces, even more sinister, waiting in the shadows to sow chaos! Ruthless enemies who sow death with the vilest reiki techniques! Forces against which your precious laws and codes of honor mean nothing! When the time comes, what will you do? Beg? Plead? Or will you fight tooth and nail, with all the power you can master?”

The professor began to cough uncontrollably. Then, he took a deep breath and lowered his voice.

“I’m not here to teach you to kill, boys. I’m here to teach you to survive. And for that, you need to know the truth. The dark and terrible truth that many want to hide or ignore!”

No one responded.

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you,” he said, smiling maliciously. “At least, not today. Today I’m just going to show you what awaits you. And for that, I need a volunteer. Anyone?”

Everyone lowered their heads, hoping the master would choose someone else.

Master Oda sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

“Well, well. I see you’re all cowards. No wonder you’re here, in the academy’s lowest rank. You have neither talent nor courage to face the real world! But don’t worry, I’m going to help you.”

With that, he turned around and put his hand in his tunic pocket. He took out a small red ball and tossed it in the air with a quick movement.

The ball flew in an arc and fell on Tora’s desk, one of Katsuo’s bullies. Tora was a big, strong boy, used to intimidating others with his brute strength.

Seeing the ball, he looked at Ritsu. Then he smiled and tried to grab it, probably to throw it. But when he tried to grab the ball, he couldn’t do anything. The ball had stuck to the desk, as if it were part of it. Tora pulled harder, but only managed to make noise.

The master turned and looked at him with a mocking smile.

“What do we have here?” he said. “Looks like we have a volunteer. What’s your name, boy?”

Tora froze, not knowing what to do. The master approached him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, boy, don’t be shy,” he whispered when he was inches from him. “Tell me your name. Or don’t you know it?”

Tora stammered, trying to refuse.

“N-no, I don’t... I don’t want...”

The master interrupted him with a laugh.

“I see, I see. You’re one of those who prefer to act rather than talk. I like that! But I also like to know who I’m dealing with. So, tell me your name, or I’ll tell it to you.”

The master leaned over and looked at Tora’s desk. There was a plate with his name and surname.

“Here it is!” he exclaimed. “Tora Yamazaki. A very nice name. Do you know what it means?”

Tora nodded his head, unable to help it.

“Yes, it means... it means tiger... mountain tiger...”

The master nodded with approval.

“Very good, very good. A name worthy of a warrior. A name that inspires respect and fear. A name that will serve you well for what we’re going to do. Are you ready, Tora Yamazaki?”

Tora tried to say something, but before he could articulate a word, the master pointed at him with his hands and shouted:

“Control!”

Tora rose from his desk as if propelled by an invisible force. He couldn’t move or speak. He could only look at the master with terror.

Tears came from his eyes, but he couldn’t cry.

The master looked at him with a mixture of satisfaction and cruelty.

“That’s how I like it, Tora Yamazaki. That’s how I like you to be. Still and quiet, like a good soldier. Do you know what I just did? I just took control of your blood. Yes, your blood. The blood that runs through your veins, that feeds your muscles, that oxygenates your brain. The blood that gives you life. And now, life is mine.”

The master paused and touched his leg with an absent look. Then he gritted his teeth and a nervous tic contracted his eyelid.

“It’s ironic, isn’t it? I have affinity with water! Water is the element of life, of purity, of harmony. But it’s also the element of death, of corruption. Water can be sweet or salty, liquid or solid, calm or violent. Water can give or take life. It can be a balm or a poison. And I know it well, I learned it in the war. In the war where I lost my sanity, along with my leg!”

Oda made a gesture with his hand and Tora moved like a puppet.

“And you’re going to learn it too, Tora Yamazaki. You and everyone else. I’ll turn you into deadly weapons or you’ll perish in the attempt. Is that clear? I’m going to teach you real combat. I’m going to teach you war.”

Ritsu swallowed hard.

This would be a very long class.