Chapter 3: Love and War
The railway yard was a battlefield. The scent of blood mixed with rain, steel clashed against steel, and the world shrank to the two warriors standing in the eye of the storm.
Kim Han and Ryuu Takeda circled each other, swords drawn, neither making the first move.
"You should've stayed dead, Han," Ryuu said, his voice calm despite the chaos around them. "Daichi doesn't forgive ghosts."
Han smirked. "I'm not here for forgiveness."
Lightning flashed. Ryuu lunged.
Their swords met in a shower of sparks, the force of the clash sending shockwaves through Han's arms. He barely had time to pivot before Ryuu's blade came slicing toward his ribs. He twisted, deflecting the strike, but Ryuu was relentless, pressing forward with precision honed by years of killing.
Han met him blow for blow, their movements blindingly fast. The echoes of their past battles played in his mind—once, they had trained together, fought side by side. Now, only one of them would walk away.
Aya fought her own battle on the outskirts, cutting through Daichi's men with ruthless efficiency. She caught sight of Han's struggle, her heart clenching.
He was fast. But Ryuu was faster.
With a sharp twist, Ryuu's blade grazed Han's shoulder, drawing blood. Han staggered back, gripping his sword tighter.
Ryuu smirked. "You've gotten slow."
Han exhaled. He wasn't slow. He was holding back.
Not anymore.
With a burst of speed, he closed the distance, his blade a blur. Ryuu barely had time to block before Han's foot slammed into his ribs, sending him crashing into a stack of crates.
"Still think I'm slow?" Han growled.
Ryuu wiped blood from his lip, eyes burning. "Finally taking this seriously? Good."
He lunged again, but this time, Han was ready. Their blades met in a final, decisive clash—Han feinted left, then spun, his sword cutting through the rain.
A sharp slice.
Ryuu froze. His sword slipped from his fingers. A deep wound bled across his chest.
He staggered back, gripping the wound, but he laughed—a dark, amused chuckle. "You've still got it."
Han lowered his blade, breathing hard. He had won.
But before he could move, gunfire erupted.
Aya's scream cut through the chaos.
Han whipped around, eyes widening. She was on the ground, blood spreading from her side.
Daichi Sato stood above her, a gun in his hand and a smirk on his face.
"Nice reunion," Daichi mused, twirling the pistol. "But you're too late, Han."
Han's grip tightened around his sword. His heart pounded, not from fear—but from fury.
This wasn't over.
This was just the beginning.
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