The sun hung high in the beige sky, its rays occasionally piercing through the dark clouds that covered the heavens, forming an eternal dreary look to the days. A few early arrivals stood in small groups, discussing their plans and preparations, their breaths visible in the crisp air. The atmosphere was a mix of excitement and anxiety, the reality of the journey finally sinking in. Lanai’s gates, a sturdy structure of reinforced wood and metal attached to the ten-meter wall surrounding the city, loomed behind them, a reminder of the safety they were about to leave behind. The distant rustle of leaves and chirping of unseen birds added to the tension, making the forest feel alive and watchful.
Kotaru arrived first, carrying a heavy pack on his back and a determined expression on his face. He scanned the clearing, nodding to those already present with a sense of purpose. Finding a spot, he set down his belongings with a thud, checking over his gear one final time. His tattooed arms flexed as he tightened straps and secured buckles, his hair ruffling in the wind. Each movement quick and forceful, reflecting his nature and readiness for the journey ahead.
Kuremu was next to arrive, a dark cloak billowing slightly in the breeze, his hood pulled back to reveal a thoughtful expression, his satchel carefully balanced and secured by a pair of tonfas. Spotting Kaorai sitting on a wooden bench surrounded by tools and small gadgets, Kuremu walked over, his eyes softening as he watched the nimble fingers adjust the mechanisms of a tiny clockwork bird.
“Always tinkering, huh?” Kuremu said, his attempt at a light tone barely masking his own tension.
Kaorai looked up, smiling shyly. “I find it relaxing. Helps me think.”
Sitting beside him, Kuremu picked up one of the trinkets, marveling at the delicate work. “You’re a bright one, Kaorai. Just remember, there’s a world out there beyond these gears and springs.”
Kaorai’s smile widened a bit. “I know. But sometimes it’s easier to focus on the small things.”
Dobutsumé paced back and forth, her cloak swirling around her ankles. Clad in light, flexible dark armor, her orange hair tied back in a practical braid, she muttered under her breath, her fingers tapping a quick rhythm against her stomach.
Naruhatsu and Richaku arrived together, the latter still looking slightly disinterested but more alert than usual. Naruhatsu, on the other hand, was brimming with excitement, her eyes darting around the clearing, taking in the scene.
Hotonashi and Urasadi strolled in, hand in hand, their demeanor calm but focused. They exchanged a few words with Kotaru before finding a place to sit and wait.
Chikai arrived, Suzuki in tow, nodding to his peers before finding a spot to wait.
Kakkonosu was one of the last to arrive, his pack meticulously organized and a serious expression on his face. He quickly assessed the group, noting who was present and who was still missing.
As the final students trickled in, Getsueikiritel and a few other elders approached, ready to see them off. The air grew tense as the moment of departure drew near.
Getsueikiritel stepped forward, his voice carrying over the clearing. “Today marks the beginning of a new chapter for Lanai. You twenty have been chosen to represent our village, to forge a path for our future. Remember your training, support each other, and stay true to our values. You carry the hopes of all of us with you.”
The students nodded in unison, their expressions serious.
“One final thing,” Getsueikiritel continued. “Though your journey will be arduous, it is also an opportunity. Embrace it, learn from it, and come back stronger.”
With those words, the elders stepped back, and the students began to gather their belongings.
Kuremu looked back at Suzuki, who had come to see them off. “Be safe, big brother. Come back soon,” Suzuki called out, his voice tinged with concern, knowing this was going to be the last time he saw his brother for years.
Kuremu forced a smile, ruffling Suzuki’s hair. “I’ll try. Take care of everyone while I’m gone.”
Suzuki’s eyes welled up, but he blinked back the tears, his voice cracking as he said, “I will. Come back soon” He looked at Kuremu with a mixture of hope and fear, his face twisted with emotion.
“This isn’t the time for that, Suzu. Just…” Kuremu started but paused, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the right words. The frustration of his inability to comfort his brother grew, hardening his expression. “I’ve got responsibilities. I can’t always be around to babysit you.”
Kuremu’s words hit Suzuki hard, making him flinch. He quickly turned to walk away, but Chikai stopped him, leaning down to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Before you know it, Suzu, you’ll be with us in Caipat,” he said with a wide smile, his tone gentle and encouraging. Kuremu watched with a pang of jealousy, his jaw tightening as he saw the connection between his brother and Chikai.
As the students formed a line, ready to embark on their journey, a sense of unity and purpose filled the air. They were ready to face the unknown, to carve their place in the world beyond Lanai. With a final look back at their city, they stepped forward, their future unfolding with each step they took.
The path ahead led them into the dense and mysterious Mori-Seitoshi forest, a place both feared and revered for its wild beauty and hidden dangers. The trees towered above them, their branches forming a natural canopy that filtered the sunlight into a greenish glow.
Kakkonosu took the lead, his map clutched in one hand, his eyes scanning the dense foliage ahead. “Remember, keep your senses sharp,” he reminded the group, his voice steady but serious. “We’re in Mori-Seitoshi now. Anything can happen.”
Kotaru, carrying his heavy pack with ease, moved beside the guide, wanting to take charge as leader. “Just stay close, everyone. We’ve trained for this.”
Kaorai, ever the curious one, walked with his eyes darting around, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. “You think we’ll see any of those legendary beasts out here?” he asked, his voice filled with both excitement and apprehension.
“Hardly,” Urasadi said, twirling a knife in one hand, his other occasionally brushing against Hotonashi’s as they walked.
“I hope so!” Dobutsumé replied, her pace brisk and eyes sharp, “If we do, let’s hope they’re more interested in talking rather than eating.”
“Talking?” Tensakami questioned, peering over to Dobutsumé, a light-hearted grin on his face. “You don’t actually believe those tales of talking gods and monsters are true, do you?”
Dobutsumé shot him a sideways glance. “Why not? We live in a world where we can’t even walk under the stars because of our ancestors being too simple to find a peaceful resolution to their problems. We can’t explore much of our world because of the giants and beasts that lurk. Is it so hard to believe some of them might have an intelligence akin to ours? Maybe even more so?”
Tensakami chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Belief is a wonderful thing, Dobutsumé. It brings color to our lives. But we must balance it with reason. Focus on what you know and what you can control. Leave the fairy tales for the storytellers.”
Kaorai interjected, his voice tinged with curiosity. “So you don’t believe in any of it, Tensakami? Not even a little?”
Tensakami’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he regarded the tinkerer. “It’s not that I don’t believe, Kaorai. It’s just that I prefer to keep my feet on the ground while my mind wanders the skies. The moment you start chasing legends, you lose sight of reality. And in our world, losing sight of reality can be quite the adventure, but also risky.”
Urasadi, still twirling his knife, added with a smirk, “Tensakami’s right. We’ve got enough real dangers to worry about without adding imaginary ones to the mix.”
Hotonashi, who had been silent until now, nodded in agreement. “Keep your mind sharp and your eyes open. That’s what’ll keep you alive out here.”
Dobutsumé sighed but nodded, her enthusiasm dampened but not extinguished. “Alright, alright. But if we do see something out of the ordinary, I’m going to say ‘I told you so.’”
Tensakami laughed, a sound that lifted the group’s spirits. “Deal. Just make sure you’re ready for anything, Dobutsumé. The world is full of surprises, after all.”
The atmosphere lightened with Tensakami’s cheerful demeanor and wise words. His presence, calm and optimistic, acted as a steadying influence, guiding them through the unknown with a clear mind, a warm heart, and a steadfast resolve. The tension in the group visibly eased as they responded to his positivity. Naruhatsu’s anxious fidgeting stilled, and even the ever-skeptical Kaorai seemed to relax, his usual wariness softening around the edges. In contrast, the stern faces of Lanai’s designated leaders, Kakkonosu and Kotaru, remained vigilant and focused, highlighting the difference in their leadership styles.
Amidst this lightened mood, Shisei stood apart, his presence a stark contrast to the others. His wiry frame and disheveled hair spoke of countless hours of grueling training. A blindfold covered his eyes, a testament to his unique approach to life. Despite his apparent isolation, there was a quiet strength in the way he carried himself, a determination that burned bright even when hope seemed scarce.
Shisei’s thoughts were a whirlwind of strategies and self-improvement, his mind always on the next challenge. To him, every moment was an opportunity to sharpen his skills, to prove his worth in a world that had already written him off. His clawed weapons, strapped securely to his hands at all times, were an extension of his will, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
He glanced over at Kuremu, a rare flicker of warmth crossing his usually brooding features. Kuremu, one of the few who understood his drive and shared his dedication, was deep in conversation with Gaidoshu. Their bond was forged through countless hours of grueling training and shared struggles, a silent but powerful connection that gave Shisei a sense of belonging he rarely felt elsewhere. Memories of late-night strategy sessions and early morning sparring flashed through his mind, reinforcing the unspoken trust between them.
Gaidoshu adjusted his goggles, his spiky hair catching the light as he spoke with fervor. “Kuremu… Have you ever… Thought about how different…. The world would be…. If people weren’t so…. Afraid of what they don’t… Understand?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, as his respirator let out a low hiss with every pause.
Kuremu nodded thoughtfully, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Gaidoshu’s natural intensity. “Fear often drives people to make irrational choices. It’s easier to condemn than to try and understand. But that’s why we’re different, Gaidoshu. We don’t let fear dictate our actions.” Suddenly, Kuremu noticed Gaidoshu drop to a knee, jumping off the path, causing him to stop too, asking, “What’s wrong?”
“Mushrooms.” His masked friend said, letting out a small cough through his respirator as he carefully plucked a cluster from the forest floor. “Perfect… For my next batch.”
Raising a brow, Kuremu looked to the others who kept walking, slowly passing them. “What makes these ones special?”
Gaidoshu held up a brown cap, glistening in the light. “They… Release spores that… Cause hallucinations.” Taking a moment to gather more, Kuremu’s intrigue grew as he stepped off the path and got closer to the batch. “Very potent… Mix them with… Right chems… Powerful weapon.”
Crouching beside him, Kuremu examined the mushrooms closely. “You’ve really got an eye for this. How do you even know where to look?”
Gaidoshu shrugged, a faint smile hidden behind his mask. “Experience, mostly… A bit of intuition… The forest speaks… To those who listen.” As Gaidoshu says this, he quickly swats at something in the air, however, Kuremu wasn’t able to see anything.
Kuremu nodded thoughtfully. “And what about the effects? Have you tested them before?”
Gaidoshu’s eyes flickered with a mix of pride and caution. “Only on small animals… So far… The results were… Interesting.. But I’m confident it’ll… Work on larger targets.”
Kuremu picked up a mushroom, turning it over in his hand. “You always find a way to use the environment to our advantage… It’s impressive.”
Gaidoshu chuckled softly. “Necessity is the… Mother of invention, they say… Besides, the Royama have…. Relied on our wits rather.. Than brute strength.”
Kuremu placed the mushroom back on the ground gently. “It’s a good philosophy. One that’s kept us alive more times than I can count.” Patting Gaidoshu on the back as he stood up, shortly followed by Gaidoshu himself, tucking the mushrooms into a pouch.
“Preparedness is key.” Chikai said, standing at the edge of the path, watching them intently, causing both to suddenly jolt towards him.
“You never know what’s lurking… Around the next corner.” Gaidoshu said, an air of intensity building. This was the first time Chikai had attempted to speak to anybody within the current group in years, having shut himself out from those at the academy after he killed one of the other students during a sparring match.
“C’mon,” Chikai said, nodding towards the group who had now left the three behind. “It’s looking like it’s getting colder up ahead, we don’t need to be too far behind.” Pausing, he recognized an uneasiness had grown, their trust in him faulty, especially now that they were alone, and so he attempted to make a joke as playful banter. “I can’t really read a map, so we’ll be lost without the others.”
Kuremu and Gaidoshu exchanged glances before following Chikai back to the group. The air was growing noticeably colder, their breaths forming small clouds in front of them. As they caught up, the conversation amongst the group had shifted to the challenges ahead.
“Is it just me, or is it getting colder faster than we expected?” Naruhatsu asked, hugging herself for warmth.
“Definitely colder,” Urasadi agreed, glancing at the snow accumulating on the ground. “We need to keep moving. Stopping now could be dangerous.”
Kakkonosu, leading the group, checked his map again, his brow furrowed. “We’re getting close to the cliffs. We’ll have to make camp soon, but we need to find a suitable spot.”
Kotaru nodded, his eyes scanning the surroundings. “Let’s find some shelter. The wind’s picking up, and we’ll need protection.”
As they trudged through the increasing snow, Hotonashi shivered, her teeth chattering. “I didn’t think it would be this cold so soon.”
Dobutsumé, always practical, spoke up. “We’ll have to double up on the watches tonight. I haven’t ever been this far from home, there might be critters out here.”
Tensakami, walking alongside her, added, “We need to be prepared for anything. Keep your weapons close and your senses sharp.”
Kuremu, walking with Gaidoshu, noticed how the snow was now knee-deep, making their progress slower and more laborious. “This is turning into a real slog,” he muttered.
Gaidoshu adjusted his goggles, his breath fogging up the lenses momentarily. “At this rate… we’ll be buried… if we stop for too long.” His respirator hissed as he spoke, a reminder of his unique condition as he scanned the increasingly white landscape.
Ahead, the path began to slope downward, and the trees thinned, revealing a breathtaking yet ominous sight. The cliffs of the island loomed ahead, their sheer drops disappearing into a churning, toxic sea below. Waves crashed violently against the jagged rocks that lined the shore, sending up sprays of noxious mist that shimmered with an eerie brown glow. The air grew thick with the acrid scent of the sea, making each breath feel heavy and labored. The group paused, taking in the scene with a mix of awe and trepidation, the foreboding beauty of the landscape a stark reminder of the dangers they were on the verge of facing.
Kakkonosu halted, motioning for the group to stop as Chikai, looking over the edge, whistled softly. “That’s a long way down. We’ll need to be careful.”
“Careful doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Sabani muttered, adjusting his bow. “One slip, and we’re done for.”
“This is it.” Kakkonosu stated abruptly. “We’ll need to find a safer way down, but first, we make camp,” his eyes scanning the waters.
The group spread out slightly, searching for a suitable spot to set up their camp. They found a small, sheltered area nestled between two large rocks, offering some protection from the wind and elements.
“Alright, this will have to do,” Kakkonosu said, setting his pack down. “Let’s get a fire going and set up the tents. We need to stay warm.”
Working together to set up camp, the temperature continued to drop, the snow, now nearly five feet deep in some areas, making their task even more challenging. Despite the cold and the growing fatigue, they managed to get a fire started, its warm glow a welcome relief against the encroaching night.
Kuremu and Gaidoshu sat near the fire, the warmth seeping into their bones. “You know,” Kuremu began, his voice low, “I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier, about people fearing what they don’t understand.”
Gaidoshu nodded, his goggles reflecting the flickering flames. “Fear… is a powerful force… It drives people… to do things… they wouldn’t normally do.”
Kuremu stared into the fire, his mind racing. “It’s true. But maybe, just maybe, we can change that. Show people there’s more to the world than their fears.”
Gaidoshu’s respirator hissed softly as he took a deep breath. “It’s a nice thought… But the world… isn’t that simple.”
Kuremu and Gaidoshu fell silent for a moment, their thoughts lost in the flickering flames. Around them, the rest of the group was busy setting up tents and laying out sleeping bags. The cold wind whipped through the camp, but the fire provided a small, comforting oasis of warmth.
Urasadi and Hotonashi worked together to secure a tent, their movements synchronized and efficient. Urasadi’s dark skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat despite the cold, and Hotonashi’s kimono fluttered in the breeze. They exchanged a few words, their bond evident in their seamless teamwork.
“Do you think we’ll find anything out here?” Hotonashi asked, her voice barely audible over the wind.
Urasadi paused, looking thoughtful. “It’s hard to say. This place is full of mysteries. But whatever we find, we’ll face it together.”
Hotonashi smiled, her eyes filled with trust. “I know we will.”
Nearby, Tensakami was helping Naruhatsu and Richaku with their tent. His cheerful demeanor was a stark contrast to Richaku’s usual disinterest. Naruhatsu’s excitement was infectious, and even Richaku seemed to be more engaged than usual.
“Tensakami, do you really believe there’s nothing to the legends? Not even of the gods?” Naruhatsu asked, struggling with a rope and looking up with dewy-eyed curiosity.
Tensakami chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s not that I don’t believe, Naru. It’s just that I think we need to focus on the here and now. The legends are fascinating, but we can’t let them distract us from our mission.”
Richaku nodded, his usual apathy replaced with a moment of engagement. “It’s easy to get lost in stories.”
Naruhatsu sighed, a dreamy look in her eyes. “I guess you’re right. But sometimes, it’s nice to imagine.”
Tensakami smiled warmly, patting her shoulder. “Imagination is good, Naru. It keeps hope alive. Just don’t let it cloud your judgment.”
Not far from them, Kaorai, Nomi, and Shisei were deep in conversation. Shisei, ever the loner, seemed surprisingly open with the village idiots, finding common ground in their shared sense of isolation and determination.
“Nomi is just scared.’ Kaorai replied to a previous question about his friend who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the trip thus far, his fingers having returned to his small gadgets.
“Nu-uh.” Nomi jokes, their features hidden behind a mask as they look at the hole they just finished digging, where they would be sleeping tonight, reminding them of the bed they’re leaving behind.
“I don’t blame you.’ Shisei responded, examining Nomi’s mask from afar. “This place is scary. Even though nothing has happened. All the noises. The lack of people. The lack of walls. It’s just us and whatever is behind that tree there. Or under this rock here,” Shisei continued, patting his hand against the rock he leaned against.
“Let’s not be downers.” Kaorai interjected, pointing to Tensakami as he continued, “Tensakami is right over there. He alone can take out half the masters in Lanai, and that’s not counting Naruhatsu and Kakkonosu, who are on par with him.”
Kaorai’s reminders of the best of Lanai being with them gave them a bit of hope, as Nomi nodded, asking after a moment of thought. “Why did Getsueikiritel pass you, anyways?” His question obviously directed to Shisei, and one that had been on everyone’s minds since the announcement, as they all paused and looked over, giving Shisei a sense of nervousness as he had to ponder on how to respond.
“I… I wish I could tell you,” he finally replied after a long pressed minute, causing a bit of an argument between Urasadi and Hotonashi who had been cold to him since the night prior when his name was called.
Sabani and Ara were gathering firewood a little way off from the main group. Sabani’s usual bravado was tempered by the seriousness of their situation, while Ara’s quiet determination provided a steadying influence.
“Do you think we’ll make it through this? Get to Caipat?” Sabani asked, his voice uncharacteristically subdued.
Ara paused, looking up at the darkening sky. “We have to. There’s no other option.”
Sabani sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know. It’s just… this place gives me the creeps.”
“Just stay focused and keep your wits about you.” Ara responded coldly, not interested in dealing with Sabani’s typical antics.
Meanwhile, Kotaru and Kakkonosu were standing at the edge of the cliff, discussing their strategy for the days ahead. Kakkonosu’s meticulous nature was a perfect counterbalance to Kotaru’s brute strength, and their partnership was one of mutual respect and forced interaction by the Lanai’s officials over the years, grooming each to be leaders.
“We need to keep a steady pace,” Kakkonosu said, his eyes on the map. “If we push too hard, we’ll exhaust ourselves. But if we move too slowly, we risk getting caught in worse weather.”
Kotaru nodded, his gaze fixed on the islands across the sea in the horizon. “Agreed. We’ll need to find a balance.” After a moment, he added, “Dobutsume was right, we should set up a double rotation for the night watch. Being this close to the water could be too dangerous to leave ourselves vulnerable.”
As the group huddled around the fire, the conversations turned to lighter topics, a welcome respite from the constant tension. Gaidoshu shared some of his more humorous experiments, eliciting laughter from the group. Kuremu, usually reserved, found himself relaxing in the camaraderie of his peers.
“You know,” Kuremu said, leaning back and staring up at the ever cloudy sky, “I used to think that being strong meant doing everything on your own. But out here, I’m starting to realize that strength comes from the people around you.”
Tensakami, ever the optimist, raised his canteen in a mock toast. “To us. The future of Lanai. May we face every challenge with courage and come back stronger.”
The group raised their own canteens, their spirits lifted by the simple act of unity. The night grew colder, but the warmth of their bond kept them going.
Hours passed, and the snow continued to fall, piling up around the tents and making the air even colder. The wind howled, carrying with it a sense of foreboding. The group huddled together for warmth.
During the second watch, Kotaru and Dobutsumé kept a vigilant eye on the surroundings. The fire crackled softly, casting long shadows on the snow-covered ground.
“Do you ever wonder what life would be like if things were different?” Kotaru asked, his voice low.
Dobutsumé shrugged, her eyes never leaving the darkness, listening to the sounds of the forest, both familiar and alien. “Every day. But thinking about it too much can drive you crazy. We just have to focus on the next step, and then the next.”
Kotaru nodded, his grip tightening on his weapon. “Yeah. One step at a time.”
“Why?” Dobutsumé questioned after a short silence. “What difference were you thinking about wanting?”
Giving her a quick look up and down, Kotaru shook his head, dismissing his thoughts. “It’s nothing.”
Dobutsumé raised an eyebrow but let it slide. She glanced over at Tensakami, who was sleeping soundly a few feet away, his peaceful expression a stark contrast to the harsh environment. A soft smile touched her lips, a rare moment of tenderness breaking through her usually stoic composure.
Kotaru followed her gaze, his chest tightening with a mix of jealousy and resignation. He admired Dobutsumé’s strength and determination, qualities that had always drawn him to her. Yet, the subtle way her eyes softened when she looked at Tensakami didn’t escape his notice. It was in those fleeting moments that Kotaru felt a pang of longing, wishing she could look at him with the same tenderness. Dobutsumé, sensing his gaze, glanced back at Kotaru, her expression unreadable. She appreciated Kotaru’s loyalty and courage, but her heart seemed to drift towards Tensakami’s warmth and wisdom. The silent triangle of emotions hung heavy in the cold night air, each of them grappling with unspoken feelings.
“Dobutsumé,” Kotaru began hesitantly, “have you ever thought about what might happen after all this? When the journey is over and we’re old and gray?”
She tore her gaze away from Tensakami and looked back at Kotaru, her expression guarded. “I try not to think too far ahead. It’s better to stay focused on the present.”
Kotaru nodded slowly. “I guess you’re right. Still, it’s hard not to wonder sometimes.”
Dobutsumé gave him a small, encouraging smile. “Wondering is fine, as long as it doesn’t distract you from what’s important now. We all have our roles to play.”
Kotaru returned her smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. We do.”
The time for their watch ended, and Kotaru stood up, stretching his tired muscles. “It’s time to wake Hayashi and Kowasuki,” he said, nudging Dobutsumé. She nodded, her movements slow and deliberate as she moved over to the sleeping forms of the two, gently shaking them awake. “Your turn,” she whispered, her breath visible in the cold air.
Hayashi woke up with a start, his eyes narrowing as he saw Kotaru, believing him to have been the one to wake him. “Don’t touch me, Hosoda,” he muttered under his breath as Kowasuki rubbed her eyes and stretched, oblivious to the tension.
Kotaru stepped back, his posture tense. “You have a problem with me, Hayashi?”
Hayashi’s eyes blazed with anger as he shot up to his feet in a single swift action, getting within inches of Kotaru’s face. “You know I do.”
Kotaru’s hands clenched into fists, the cold air amplifying the heat of his rising temper. “We’re on the same side, Hayashi. The past is the past.”
Before the situation could escalate further, Dobutsumé stepped between them, her voice firm. “Enough. We’re all in this together. We don’t have time for petty arguments.”
Kowasuki placed a hand on Hayashi’s shoulder, trying to calm him down. “Listen to her, Hayashi. This isn’t the time or place.”
Hayashi took a deep breath, his eyes still locked onto Kotaru. “Fine.”
Kotaru exhaled slowly, his own anger simmering down as the icy wind bit at his skin. “Just do your job, Hayashi. We all need to stay sharp.”
Dobutsumé gave both of them a stern look. “We’re all tired and on edge. Let’s not make things harder than they already are. Stay focused.”
With that, Kotaru and Dobutsumé moved to their tents to get some rest, leaving Hayashi and Kowasuki to take over the watch. The fire crackled softly as the snow continued to fall, the camp settling into an uneasy calm as the night wore on.