Chương 48: Worldline α: A Soul in Every Swing

The sensation clung perfectly to my palms. The weight. The thickness of the grip. The smell of bamboo. In an instant, a sealed memory resurfaced in my mind. — Me, back in middle school. Treated like a literal "germ" in the corner of the classroom, eating my lunch in the bathroom stalls every single day. My only refuge was the school library. And it was there that I encountered Ryotaro Shiba's novel, Ryoma Goes His Way. A man bound by nothing, living completely free.

A master swordsman who refused to kill, yet completely changed the course of Japan.

"You aren't weak. You're just kind." I felt as though the Ryoma inside the pages was speaking those words directly to me. That was why I swung a battered shinai in my backyard. Because I wanted to become strong like that man someday. Because I wanted to become capable of protecting someone. Every single day, I practiced my suburi swings until the skin peeled raw from my hands.

"... That's right." I gripped the bamboo sword tightly. The trembling stopped. This wasn't just a wooden stick. It was the very origin point of my "courage."

"Uwoooooaaaah!!" Hooking my legs around the rope ladder, I forcefully inverted my body upside down. Against Hijikata's incoming legendary katana— Izuminokami Kanesada —I swung my bamboo sword straight down with everything I had.

"[Hokushin Itto-ryu Fake: MEN (Head Strike)!!]" CRACK-DOOOM!! Bamboo and steel violently collided. By all rules of physics, the wooden practice sword should have been sliced cleanly in two. But this shinai harbored RYOMA's "will" and my own "resolve." The bamboo blade glowed with a blinding blue light, flawlessly repelling Hijikata's monstrous heavy strike. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

"Wha—?!" Hijikata lost his balance, plummeting back toward the earth.

"You bastard... You're no amateur, are you?!"

"I am an amateur!" I screamed back.

"I'm just a massive fan of Ryotaro Shiba!!" The ship rapidly ascended into the sky. Hijikata's frustrated, snarling face grew smaller in the distance. Hanging from the rope ladder, panting heavily, I hugged the bamboo sword to my chest. My hands were numb. But it was a comfortable, satisfying numbness. Pulled up onto the deck, I sprawled out flat on my back and stared up at the glitching, static-filled starry sky. RYOMA's face leaned over to look down at me.

"That was a mighty fine swing there, kid." He grinned broadly and roughly ruffled my hair with his massive hand.

"Come to think of it, I haven't caught your name yet, have I?"

"... Kataru. Mono Kataru."

"Is that right? I'm Sakamoto Ryoma... Well, I'm just a cheap knock-off built with futuristic tech, but still." RYOMA thumped his own chest. The faint hum of mechanical gears whirred from within. Yet the light shining in his eyes was unmistakably that of the hero I had always admired.

"Kataru. Those wounds... they're proof you fought damn hard." He looked at the burn scars I had suffered at Honno-ji.

"Must've hurt. Must've been terrifying... But you didn't run away. That right there is the greatest talent a man can have." I felt hot tears welling up in my eyes. NOBUNAGA had called me "worthless." But this man called my scars a "badge of honor." Just hearing that made me feel like this whole hellish journey had been worth it.

"Now then, Master Yari." RYOMA grabbed the ship's steering wheel and turned to face the Prime Minister.

"I heard the gist of it. Sounds like Japan's busy picking stupid, pointless fights with itself again."

"It's far worse than a fight," Yari replied grimly.

"Space-time is on the verge of total collapse. Corrupted by future 'division data', the Satsuma and Choshu domains are obsessed with nothing but slaughtering one another... At this rate, let alone the Restoration of Imperial Rule, all of Japan will be annihilated in a massive civil war."

"Well then, there's only one thing to do." RYOMA puffed on his cigar—which was actually an e-cigarette. The Irohamaru roared, soaring through the Kyoto sky.

"Time to do some laundry." He pointed ahead. The city of Kyoto was completely overwhelmed by black sludge, the pale blue lanterns of the Shinsengumi, and the raging, bloodthirsty battle cries of the Satsuma and Choshu factions.

"With my Grand Wash, I'm gonna scrub this filthy era and your future completely spotless!" Using the bamboo sword as a cane, I stood up. Alright, let's go. Side-by-side with my lifelong hero. I'm going to drag the dawn of Japan closer with my own two hands.