After the first test of the annual selection ended, whispers and noise rose from the arena to the outer courtyard, where the director stood on the platform and announced in his powerful voice:
"The first round is over. The official results will be announced next week, after a full evaluation of all matches… due to the serious injuries sustained by some participants."
No one clapped. Everyone was either shocked, exhausted, or hurt. As the participants left the arena one by one, the injured were taken to the organization's clinic for emergency treatment.
In one of the cold rooms lit by harsh white light, Mabushi's body lay stretched on a metal bed, connected to a respirator. His face and body were covered with bandages and dried blood. He didn't move, his ragged breathing coming only through the mask.
In the next room, screams broke the sterile silence:
"Ahhhh! It hurts!! Stop! Stop it!!"
Akio twisted on the bed, half his body exposed, covered in bruises, burns, and cuts. Beside him stood a tall female doctor with long jet-black hair flowing down to her waist, and ice-blue eyes. Her face was strict, as if chaos like this was nothing new to her.
"Shut up, you fool! All that screaming just for a bandage? Samurai? You sound more like a spoiled child!"
She pressed another bandage onto his wounded shoulder, making him scream again:
"Aaagh! Stop! At least warn me before you pull!"
The doctor glared coldly and waved the bandage in front of his face:
"Did you scream like that in the arena too? Or does your fake bravery end the moment you face real pain?"
Akio froze, not from pain this time, but from the insult.
Just then, the doors to the clinic opened unexpectedly. Ken and Ann entered together. Ken's expression was blank, and Ann was walking fast beside him, dragging him along as she scanned every bed, her eyes darting from face to face, searching for someone familiar.
The clinic was filled with groans, cries, and the rhythmic beeps of machines keeping the dying alive. Ken ignored them all. He stood in the crowded hallway, he slowly took out a cigarette, lit it, and inhaled deeply, as if the "no smoking" sign meant nothing to him.
"Seriously?!"
Ann turned to him sharply.
"You're smoking here?!"
Ken exhaled calmly, his eyes moving lazily from one bed to another, emotionless. When they reached the last one, Ann rushed forward without hesitation.
"Mabushi!"
she shouted.
She sat beside him, held his stiff hand, and looked at him with a mix of worry, respect, and disbelief.
"You won… then collapsed like an idiot, as always."
She chuckled weakly, shaking her head, though her voice was trembling. Ken approached, standing silently over Mabushi's unconscious body, staring down at the stubborn man who never knew defeat, until he fell. He took another drag of his cigarette and exhaled slowly.
"This idiot… he wouldn't care for himself even if he was cut in half."
He paused, then added in a low voice, almost a whisper:
"Take care of him… or at least keep him alive until the next round."
He didn't look at her. He put his hands in his pockets, then walked away between the beds, his smoke trailing behind him like a shadow.
Then a familiar voice echoed through the corridor:
"Ahhhh! I said stop! That hurts!! You're not healing me, you're killing me!!"
Ken raised an eyebrow and turned toward the sound. Behind a glass wall labeled "Patient Under Special Observation," he saw Akio sitting half-naked on a bed, his torso wrapped in bandages.
The same doctor stood before him, she's was holding scissors and fresh bandages, and yelling:
"I said stop moving! The more you scream, the tighter I wrap!"
"Is that your treatment method or torture?!"
Akio flailed his arms wildly like a child getting his first vaccine.
Ken took a slow breath, almost suppressing a small laugh. Akio noticed a shadow behind the glass, turned quickly, and when he saw Ken, his eyes lit up with sudden childish joy.
"Ken!! Man, help me!! This woman is trying to kill me!!"
The doctor slammed the table with her fist.
"I'm trying to bandage you, idiot! Not bury you!"
But Akio, as always, only heard what he wanted.
"She's insane! I swear she enjoys watching me suffering! Come on, save me!"
Ken sighed, pushed the door open with his foot, and walked in, still smoking as if nothing in the world mattered. The air filled instantly with the smell of smoke, and the doctor's brows furrowed in anger.
She wore a long white coat, a small name tag pinned to her chest:
"Koto – Chief Physician."
Ken glanced briefly at the tag, then looked up at her with calm mockery:
"Koto, huh? Keep doing your job. I doubt he'll die that easily."
She snapped, pointing at the cigarette in his hand:
"Are you kidding me?! This is a clinic! Put that out now!"
Ken took another slow drag and said flatly:
"If the smoke bothers you, don't look at it."
She stepped closer, her voice was sharp:
"This isn't a café, it's a treatment room!"
Ken arched a brow, turned to Akio, and said dryly:
"You seem fine enough to scream… maybe you need more treatment."
"Nooooo! Don't say that! She'll actually kill me!!"
Akio shouted.
Koto smiled darkly, raising the bandage roll.
"Good idea. Let's start over."
Ken chuckled faintly and turned to leave.
"Good luck… future Shogun,"
He said, closing the door behind him.
"Hey!! Don't leave me with this lunatic!!!"
Akio's voice echoed through the corridor.
Ken walked away calmly, the noise fading behind him, a faint smile remaining on his face, no one could tell if it was amusement or a quiet admiration for Akio's stubborn will to live.
As he continued down the long hall, a young nurse suddenly froze. She was pushing a small medical cart filled with gauze and tools, her head lowered until her eyes met his.
She was a teenage girl with shoulder-length black hair and warm brown eyes. The world seemed to shrink into silence between them. Her eyes widened, her whole body starts trembling.
"You…"
she whispered.
"You're… Ken!!"
Ken stopped. He didn't move or change expression, but deep inside, something sparked… a flash of memory: a little girl running through flames, a small hand gripping his, a scream lost in smoke.
He lowered his gaze slightly, as if he's confirming what his mind refused to believe. Then his voice came, soft, quiet, trembling in a way no one had ever heard from him before:
"Yo… Yoko?"
The moment he said her name, every wall Yoko had built through the years came crashing down. Memories poured in like rain over old ashes, childish laughter, a wooden doll he carved for her, his voice calling her name through fire.
Tears welled up and fell silently down her face. She tried to speak, but words failed her. She stepped closer, then again, until only inches separated them, then she threw herself into his arms, trembling. Her face buried in his chest, clutching his shirt like she feared he'd vanish again.
"I've been searching for you all these years…"
she said between broken sobs.
"I thought we'd never meet again… Ken…"
Ken froze. His eyes wide open, his hands suspended in the air. He wasn't used to this closeness… to the sudden warmth that cracked through his iron silence.
His breath faltered. He didn't know what to do… push her away, or hold her. All he could do was stand there, a statue of confusion and disbelief.
But even with his blank face… he didn't pull her away. He stayed still, letting her cry into him, his eyes hiding a man who had never learned how to face pain when it came in the shape of a human being.