Haimer stepped forward.
Oppression flooded the corridor like a tide.
Under his gaze, Rin felt the man in front of her grow impossibly tall—like a mountain about to collapse, its shadow swallowing her whole.
Fear.
The most primal response of any living thing faced with something it cannot understand.
But in the end, creatures often use anger to cover fear—
Like a cornered cat that puffs its fur and hisses to bluff its way out.
"Damn it!"
Rin barked the words, forcing the tremor down.
Shing—!
Her katana left the sheath.
No feints. No probing.
Against an opponent powerful enough to make her heart seize, she opened with a full-force killing strike.
Decisive. Her combat sense wasn't bad.
Haimer noted it coolly.
Rin's style was Kashima Shinden Jikishinkage-ryu.
Secret Technique—Dragon Tail Reversal!
A wide-ranging cut.
The blade carved a clean arc through the air.
Fast. Accurate. Ruthless.
Sharp enough to cleave steel.
But to Haimer's eyes—eyes that could read the essence of all technique—
The trajectory, the point of force, even the follow-up variations were all painfully clear.
"Your heart is still too chaotic," Haimer judged.
Then—
He hooked a finger lightly.
Whoosh—!
A piercing air-snap rang out.
Mozunotori Nono, trembling at Rin's side, suddenly felt her grip go weightless.
The white baton she'd been clutching flew out of her hands as if it had a will of its own.
"Wha—?!"
Her yelp hadn't even finished—
The baton crossed several meters and landed neatly in Haimer's hand.
Then—
Clang!
A crisp metal-on-metal ring exploded through the corridor.
That not-so-sturdy baton struck the side of Rin's blade with surgical precision—
Right at the point where the sword's leverage was weakest.
Four ounces to deflect a thousand pounds.
A brutal rebound traveled through the hilt, racing up Rin's arm.
Her grip numbed.
She nearly lost the katana.
The "certain-kill" strike was dissolved with a casual flick.
The blade slipped off its line, grazing Haimer's clothing before biting deep into the wall, stone chips spraying.
And—
Tap.
The baton's tip stopped dead against Rin's mask.
Less than a centimeter away.
Just a gentle touch.
Yet Rin's body locked up as if time itself had seized her.
She stared at the baton's tip, her eyes wide behind the mask.
Cold sweat soaked down her back.
Because she understood perfectly—
If that baton struck with even a fraction of force, her head would burst like an overripe melon.
Haimer looked at her stiff posture and spoke slowly.
"Your sword is bound by your heart."
"Or more precisely—by that mask."
Rin's pupils shrank.
"The essence of swordsmanship is purity."
"But when you swing, you're filled with self-loathing and fear of other people's eyes."
"Too many distractions."
Tap. Tap.
As he spoke, Haimer rapped the Hannya mask lightly with the baton, producing two small knocks.
"You… don't understand…" Rin's voice shook, still forcing stubbornness through her throat.
"This is for—"
"To hide your weakness?" Haimer cut her off without mercy.
Like an ostrich burying its head in sand, thinking that if it can't see the predator, danger ceases to exist.
Self-deception.
A sweet poison that kills growth.
Sheltered in darkness, the soul shrivels. Courage erodes.
Until, finally, the mask stops being camouflage and becomes a cage.
Worse—until it becomes part of what the person truly is.
"Take it off."
"If you still admit you're a swordswoman."
"Face what you fear most."
Rin's hand on the sword began to tremble violently.
Take it off?
In front of this man—and even in front of Amou Zanzan?
Let them see the face she believed was cursed?
The face her mother loathed?
The face she'd been told was ominous?
"No…"
She tried to step back.
That fear outweighed even fear of death.
But Haimer gave her no room to retreat.
"Too slow."
With a soft sigh, he applied a little pressure with the baton.
Crack—!
A sharp, brittle sound.
The hard mask that had clung to Rin for years instantly spiderwebbed with fractures.
Then—
Rattle.
It shattered.
White fragments exploded into the air like a flurry of dying petals.
Beneath the mask—
The face hidden behind the monster grin was finally exposed.
There was nothing ominous.
Nothing ugly.
Only a clean, delicate face—almost refined.
And because it had rarely seen sunlight, the skin was a pale, fragile white.
Now, those eyes—no longer hidden—were full of panic, humiliation, and something like a raw, defenseless shame.
Tears glimmered at the corners.
"Ugh…!"
Rin let out a short cry and reached instinctively for her sword again.
If the one thing she never wanted seen had already been exposed, then—
Kill him.
Kill everyone who saw.
Even as her reason screamed warnings, even as her body trembled with fear, the emotion called "humiliation" drowned everything else.
But Haimer simply grabbed both her hands, forcing her head up so she faced him.
No matter how she struggled, she couldn't budge him.
"So-called swordsmanship begins in courtesy and ends in the heart."
"Right now, your sword-heart is nothing but noise."
"Shame. Anger. Fear…"
"They cling to you like dust on a mirror. You can't see yourself clearly—and you can't see your sword."
"A sword-heart like that is impure."
"But."
"I didn't break your mask to humiliate you, or to judge your past."
"I did it to make you understand something."
"Humans are creatures who live by disguises."
"They wear masks to protect themselves."
"Sometimes to avoid harm. Sometimes to fit in. Sometimes to gain acceptance."
"There's nothing inherently wrong with that."
"In a world full of thorns, exposing your true heart often means placing the knife that can hurt you directly into someone else's hands."
"But."
"Wear the mask others force onto you for too long, and eventually you forget what your real face even looked like."
"So only by facing your true heart can you remain whole."
"Think carefully."
"When you first picked up a sword—was it to cut down enemies…"
"Or to cut down the coward you used to be?"
"If you've figured it out—if you don't want to remain a pitiful creature chained to the past, but instead want to be a swordswoman who hungers for strength…"
"Then come find me."
"I can take you to other worlds."
"Wider skies than you can imagine."
"And trials enough to cleanse the dust from your sword-heart."
He released her hands.
Rin collapsed onto the floor amid the mask fragments as if her bones had been pulled out, gasping for breath.
On her bare face, humiliation, rage, and blank confusion tangled together.
Then Haimer didn't spare her another glance.
He turned his hand palm-up and tapped the air lightly with long fingers.
Hummm—
The scattered mask shards, already broken across the floor, suddenly rewound as if time itself reversed.
Fragments flew, aligned, and rejoined.
In the blink of an eye, an intact Hannya mask re-formed, floating above Haimer's palm.
-------
My : pat*eon*com/RuneA
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