The night was alive with the hum of neon lights and muffled laughter, a stark contrast to the silence that consumed Tetsuo. He had left the cursed fortress days ago, his body healed but his mind broken, torn between the truth Lord Izanami had revealed and the rage that still simmered deep within him. His journey had taken him far from the land of the samurai and into a world that seemed both familiar and foreign—a place where shadows danced among the living, hiding secrets as deep as his own.

Tetsuo found himself wandering the streets of a city that never slept, its cobblestone paths slick with rain, reflecting the bright lights of the sprawling metropolis. Above him, signs flickered, advertising the pleasures of the night—bars, theaters, and places of sin. He had heard of this place during his travels, a haven for the lost and damned, where men and women alike sought to drown their sorrows in drink, music, and fleeting moments of joy.

The bar at the Folies-Bergère was his destination.

The building itself stood out among the others, its façade grand and inviting, with large windows framed by golden arches. Through the glass, Tetsuo could see the interior—plush velvet seating, a stage where performers entertained the crowds, and a long mahogany bar that stretched the length of the room. It was a place of indulgence, of escape, where the wealthy and the desperate mingled, each searching for something they couldn’t name.

Tetsuo pushed through the door, the warmth of the bar hitting him like a wave after the cold rain. The air inside was thick with the scent of liquor and perfume, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses filling his ears. He made his way to the bar, his black cloak dripping water onto the polished floor, drawing the curious glances of the patrons around him. He ignored them all.

He sat at the bar, his eyes fixed on the bottles that lined the shelves behind the counter, each one promising a different kind of oblivion. The bartender, a stout man with a graying beard, approached him, wiping a glass with a rag.

"What’ll it be, stranger?"

Tetsuo didn’t respond immediately. His mind was elsewhere, still trapped in the darkness of that fortress, still hearing the echoes of Lord Izanami’s words. His hand brushed the hilt of Shinryū, hidden beneath his cloak, the blade’s presence a constant reminder of the curse he carried.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and hoarse. "Sake. Strong."

The bartender raised an eyebrow but nodded, turning to pour the drink. Tetsuo’s gaze wandered to the stage, where a woman in a sequined dress sang softly, her voice lilting over the soft melody of the piano. The crowd was mesmerized, their attention drawn to her every movement, every note. But Tetsuo’s mind remained detached, as if the entire scene were playing out in a dream he didn’t belong to.

The bartender placed the cup of sake in front of him, and Tetsuo lifted it to his lips, the warm liquid burning as it slid down his throat. For a brief moment, the fire in his chest dulled the ache in his heart, but it was fleeting. The drink could numb the pain, but it couldn’t silence the questions that haunted him.

What had Lord Izanami meant by calling him a vessel? A bridge between worlds?

Tetsuo had spent his life believing in vengeance, in the righteousness of his cause, but now… now he wasn’t sure of anything. He had been chasing ghosts, only to find that his entire existence was a lie. His clan hadn’t been murdered for political gain or to settle an old vendetta. They had been sacrificed for something darker, something ancient.

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He took another sip of sake, trying to drown the thoughts that refused to die. But as he set the cup down, a voice interrupted his solitude.

"That’s not a drink for a man with a soul as heavy as yours."

Tetsuo turned his head to see a figure standing beside him, a woman with sharp eyes and a mischievous grin. Her hair was cut short, and she wore a tailored suit that seemed out of place in the bar’s opulence, yet she carried herself with the confidence of someone who belonged wherever she chose to be.

"You’ve got the look of someone who’s seen too much," she continued, sliding onto the stool next to him. "Mind if I join you?"

Tetsuo didn’t respond, his eyes narrowing slightly. He had learned long ago not to trust strangers, especially ones who approached him without fear. But something about her demeanor—her ease, her audacity—intrigued him. Against his better judgment, he didn’t send her away.

"Suit yourself," she said with a shrug, signaling to the bartender for a drink. "Name’s Kaede, by the way."

Tetsuo remained silent, his attention drifting back to his cup. Kaede watched him for a moment before leaning in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"You’re not from around here, are you? And that sword you’ve got hidden under that cloak—pretty dangerous thing to be carrying around in a place like this."

Tetsuo’s grip tightened on the hilt of Shinryū, but he didn’t rise to the bait. He had encountered plenty of curious fools in his time, people who thought they could pry into his life and gain something from it. Kaede was no different. And yet, there was something about her that set her apart—a sharpness in her eyes, a knowledge that seemed to go deeper than mere curiosity.

"You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to," Kaede said, taking a sip of her drink. "But you should know, you’re not the first lost soul to wander into this place. The Folies-Bergère has a way of attracting people like you—people looking for answers, for redemption."

Tetsuo’s eyes flicked to her, the weight of her words settling over him like a shroud. He had been running for so long, searching for something—vengeance, peace, purpose—and yet here he was, still lost, still trapped in the same cycle of violence and despair.

Kaede set her glass down, her expression softening. "Izanami sent you here, didn’t he?"

The mention of that name made Tetsuo’s blood run cold. He turned to face her fully, his voice barely more than a growl. "What do you know about Izanami?"

Kaede’s grin faded, replaced by a more serious look. "I know that he’s not just a man. He’s something far worse. And I know that if you keep following this path, you’re going to find yourself tangled in something you can’t escape."

Tetsuo’s eyes narrowed, suspicion and anger flaring in his chest. "Who are you?"

Kaede leaned back in her seat, her hands raised in mock surrender. "I’m just someone who knows things. I’ve been around long enough to see people like you come and go. Some survive, most don’t. But the ones who do…" She paused, her gaze locking onto his. "They learn that there’s more to life than vengeance. Sometimes, the answers you’re looking for are the ones you’re not ready to hear."

Tetsuo stared at her, his mind racing. He had come here for a reason, but now… now he wasn’t sure what that reason was anymore. Everything he thought he knew was unraveling before him, and the weight of it threatened to crush him.

Kaede stood, tossing a few coins on the bar before turning to leave. "If you want to find Izanami, you’re going to need more than just a sword. You’re going to need to understand the game he’s playing." She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes glinting in the dim light. "And trust me, Tetsuo Kuroyama, it’s a game you don’t want to lose."

With that, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving Tetsuo alone once more at the bar. The music continued, the patrons laughed and drank, oblivious to the storm brewing inside him.

He stared into his cup, the sake now cold, his reflection distorted in the pale liquid.

Who am I really chasing?

And for the first time since he began his journey, Tetsuo wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer.