Amon was asleep under a wind-bent tree near the south ridge of the mountain.
His blade leaned against the roots, and his sandals were half-buried in fallen pine needles, and the sun had just begun to dip behind the peaks.
Then, something poked his cheek.
"You're drooling."
He opened one eye, saw the edge of the sky, and then saw her face.
She was crouching beside him, curious, tilting her head with a slight grin.
Her hair was short, uneven at the ends like she'd cut it herself.
It was ash-blonde, a little silver near the roots, and her eyes were green—not the sharp kind, but soft, like she was too tired to judge anyone.
Her clothes didn't match. She wore a proper sect uniform, but the sash was tied wrong, the sleeves were rolled, and her right sandal was on the wrong foot.
She poked him again.
"You alive?"
He yawned, sat up, stretched his arms, and said, "I was meditating."
"You were snoring."
"Advanced meditation."
She nodded like that made sense.
They introduced themselves casually. Her name was Kana.
She was a new member of the Twin Headed Flame Sect, from a small farming village somewhere beyond the Blue Petal.
She'd joined because she had nowhere else to go.
"You don't look like you want to be here," Amon said.
"I don't. But it beats digging."
She smiled again, and he offered to show her around, because even if her Principle was Sin-aligned, he could at least help her figure out where the kitchens were.
Except—Zai Ren showed up halfway through the tour and immediately took over.
"Uh—I can explain that hall! It's, uh, for advanced training and forbidden techniques, which you totally shouldn't enter unless—unless you're with me."
Amon raised an eyebrow.
Zai Ren ignored him.
"And this garden? It has really rare moss. Like, moss that only grows when you breathe on it properly. Also, that pond is blessed by a frog deity, I think."
He had no idea what he was saying, but he didn't stop.
Kana nodded. "You're weird."
Zai Ren smiled like he'd been praised.
Amon sighed, let him take over the tour, and left.
He went down the trail to Senboru City, the nearest town below the sect. It was noisy and smelled like grilled fish and charcoal smoke, and the stalls were still open.
He bought skewers, a few bags of rice, some fermented pickles, and a roasted bean paste cake for himself.
As he sat at a bench outside the merchant square, he looked at his weapon—Kusanagi.
When he defeated Karou, the system offered him a choice. He picked the weapon because it felt right, and somehow, once more, it was Kusanagi.
Just like how, twice now, he'd been given Blood Mage as a class when he never asked for it.
Once might've been a coincidence. Twice, maybe fate. But now, he wasn't sure.
Why do I keep getting the same things?
He didn't say it aloud, but the idea stuck with him the whole walk back.
Maybe something was aligning. Or maybe the system wanted him to walk a certain path.
Either way, he finished his cake and went back up the mountain.
Weeks passed.
Training became routine and sword drills at sunrise.
And every night, Amon either passed out from exhaustion or lay awake, wondering if this life would break like the others.
Then one evening, Kana walked into their shared training yard with a scroll in one hand and a grin way too energetic.
"Stage play," she said, wagging the scroll in front of Zai Ren's face. "Tonight. You two are coming."
Zai Ren blinked. "A... what?"
"A play. Actors yelling at each other about love and death. C'mon."
Amon didn't argue. He didn't have a reason to.
They took the winding path down the cliffs and made it to Senboru's open-air theater before sunset.
The stage was a simple platform with paper backdrops, and the play started with a thunderclap and a man screaming about betrayal.
Ten minutes in, Zai Ren was slumped sideways, snoring into his elbow. Amon was awake for maybe five more minutes before he followed.
Kana stayed awake the whole time.
When they woke, it was over. The crowd clapped. Kana looked smug.
"You both missed the best part."
"Let me guess," Amon muttered, rubbing his eyes. "A tragic love triangle?"
"Nope. A guy stabbed his landlord because he raised the rent."
Amon blinked. "…Maybe I should've stayed awake."
They walked to a small restaurant near the merchant square. The place was quiet, wooden, and smelled like grilled chicken and sweet soy.
"So," Kana said, "how's your progress?"
Zai Ren sat up straight. "I mastered the Eighth Form of Flaming Blossom Slash. My Principle is still weak, but I feel like it's reacting faster now."
Kana nodded, half-impressed. "Nice."
Amon picked at his rice. "I reached Tier 1. I also got a martial technique that lets me cut using white mana."
"Wait, seriously?" Kana leaned forward. "What's it called?"
"Jobless Edge."
"…What?"
"It cuts through effort."
Kana laughed. "You're kidding."
"I wish I was."
She leaned back, shaking her head. "Only you would get a slashing technique that works better the lazier you are."
"Technically, it's not laziness. It's spiritual detachment."
Zai Ren coughed. "It's unemployment. Don't make it sound cool."
Amon shrugged. "It works."
Kana grinned. "I think it's hilarious."
They kept talking about how weird the Sect really was.
It was peaceful. Which was strange.
And maybe, just maybe, that's what worried Amon the most.
The sun hadn't even set when they returned to the Sect.
Amon walked beside Kana, who kept humming a tune from the play. Zai Ren trailed behind.
The path up the mountain was familiar now. The rock crests, the tilted stairway, the moss between the cracks—they had seen it every day for months.
And then, just as they turned the final slope leading to the courtyard, they saw him.
Grandpa Shigure.
One of the oldest members of the Sect. He was lying on the stone floor, motionless. His eyes were wide open, but empty.
Zai Ren was the first to yell. "What—what happened?!"
Kana dropped beside the body. "He's dead. He's really—"
Then something struck Amon in the back of the head. Just a thud and then—
Someone... someone was standing over him.
A girl.
Her face was foggy, but her hair was black.
Then, nothing.
He woke up with a gasp—in the restaurant. Before they had even left for the Sect.
He shot upright in his chair. Kana blinked, mouth full of noodles.
"You okay?"
It wasn't her. She had ash-blonde hair. He reached over and yanked her Ash-Blonde hair.
"OW! What was that for?!"
Amon blinked. "Sorry. I needed to check something."
She rubbed her head, glaring. "Check your sanity maybe!"
But it wasn't Kana. Then... who?
They returned to the Sect again. But this time, Amon hung back.
He made Kana and Zai Ren walk up the final turn first. And when they saw the body again and started yelling—
The ambush came.
A blur of movement shot down from the treetops. Amon didn't even hesitate. His blade moved on instinct—white mana flashed.
Jobless Edge sliced through the momentum of the strike, forcing the attacker back.
Amon lunged, but stumbled forward just as the enemy fell too.
He landed on top of a girl.
Black hair tied back and twin blades crisscrossed on her back in an X-shape.
It was her.
Amon stared.
Airi.
His companion from another life. The one who followed him even when he was a monster. The one the God of Death had told him he might see again.
"Airi..."
She scrambled up. "Who are you?! How do you know my name?"
Amon hesitated. Then he said, "We don't have time."
He grabbed her by the waist and ran away from the Sect.
He sprinted down the forest trail with her kicking and yelling.
"Let me go! What are you doing?!"
"I'm not going to hurt you."
"Then why are you dragging me?! Are you crazy?!"
"Probably. But you were about to die."
They stopped a mile from the mountain base. Amon set her down.
She backed off instantly, hand on her blades.
"Who are you really?"
He didn't answer right away. He couldn't say the truth.
"I'm... Amon. A wandering samurai who happened to join the Sect. I saw you once, from long ago. You were in a vision."
"A vision?"
"I don't know why you're here, or how. But I know that if I let you go, you'll die. And I can't let that happen."
Airi stared at him. Her hands trembled, but she didn't draw her swords.
"I don't know who you are, or what you're talking about. But if you're lying—"
"I'm not. Just give me a little time, and I'll prove it."
He didn't know why she attacked the Sect.
Maybe she wasn't herself, or maybe something forced her hand. But none of that mattered.
Airi was here.
And he was going to protect her no matter what it cost.