Kitsamasa Mizuki's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Kitsamasa Mizuki swung the black katana a hundred times before dawn, and a hundred times it stayed plain steel. He knew the blade held aqua power. He had seen its edge glow once, the night his wife told him the fae realm was real. To reach that realm, he had to cut the veil between worlds. But the sword would not answer his hands. It cut air like any dull piece of metal. He trained inside a broken shrine tucked below the cliffs. Cracked stone arches leaned over him. Silver vines with tiny bell blossoms climbed the pillars. Faded fae carvings watched from the walls. He came here in secret, away from the manor above, because he did not want Kagome to see him fail again. But she found him anyway. Kagome stepped through the arch in a white dress edged with gold. Her red eyes caught the moonlight. She did not scold him or beg him to rest. She only picked up a fallen silver leaf and turned it in her fingers. "You swing like a soldier," she said. "You are trying to force it." "I have tried everything else," Kitsamasa said. His arms shook. "The power hides from me." She walked to him and pressed her palm flat against his chest. "It does not live in your arms. It lives here. You feel nothing when you swing because you feel nothing at all. You lock it away." He wanted to argue. Instead he thought about why he wanted the veil open. Not for glory. He wanted to walk her home. He had learned she was not born in this world, and that one day it would pull her back. The fear he had buried rose in his throat. "Swing again," Kagome said. "Think of losing me." Kitsamasa raised the blade. He let the fear fill him. He pictured the veil closing with her on the far side. He brought the katana down. Aqua light burst along the steel. It hummed and threw a cold blue glow across the broken shrine. The vines shivered. The carved fae faces seemed to wake. For the first time, Kitsamasa felt the sword pull at his hands like a living thing. The blade did not stop where he aimed. It kept moving, dragged toward the old stone altar. The edge struck the cracked slab and split it clean in two. Behind the altar the air tore open. A thin seam of light hung in the dark, no wider than a hand. Cold wind poured through it. It smelled of rain and flowers that did not grow here. Kitsamasa lowered the humming blade. He had done it. He had touched the veil. From the other side of the seam, something moved. A jet-black wolf with glowing aqua fur pressed its face to the gap and stared straight at him with pale blue eyes. "Kitsamasa," Kagome whispered. "You opened it. But you cannot close it."