Chapter 2: The Blade That Cuts Curses
The forest stretched for miles, ancient and suffocating, as if it knew how many cursed had bled on its soil. Kenshin Ryuto followed behind Hayate in silence, the rhythmic crunch of boots on dried leaves the only sound between them. Above, thick canopies blocked out most of the sun, leaving shadows to crawl like ghosts across the moss-covered ground.
Kenshin's neck still burned.
The mark—the black flame—was restless. It pulsed with strange energy every time his thoughts darkened, especially when he thought of her. Kira.
Hayate tossed him a small gourd of water over his shoulder. "You're brooding again."
"I'm not," Kenshin replied quickly.
"You've got that look. The 'I want to burn the world' look." Hayate grinned, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Trust me, I've seen it in the mirror before."
Kenshin looked away. "You said you know someone. Your teacher. Who is he?"
Hayate's steps slowed. "He's not someone you just meet. You survive him."
They stopped at the edge of a gorge. A massive skeleton of some ancient beast lay half-submerged in the rocky ravine—its spine coiled like a serpent, fangs like swords.
"Down there," Hayate said, pointing. "That's where the old man lives. The one they call… the Blade Ghost."
Kenshin swallowed. "Does he have a name?"
Hayate nodded solemnly. "Yeah. Afro. Afro Kurozawa."
---
The descent was brutal. Steep cliffs. Crumbling ledges. Kenshin slipped twice, once nearly falling into the jagged maw of the beast skeleton.
At the base, they arrived at a clearing, where a small, broken-down shrine stood among rusting swords stabbed into the earth like graves. Wind howled through the bones.
"Wait here," Hayate said, walking ahead. He whistled casually, then shouted, "Old man! Got another stray for you!"
Silence.
Then… clang.
From behind the shrine emerged a tall, muscular figure cloaked in a tattered kimono, his massive afro catching the light like a halo. A katana rested across his shoulder. His one eye gleamed. The other was milky-white.
Afro Kurozawa.
"You bring another one cursed by teeth," he said in a deep, rumbling voice.
Hayate gave a mock salute. "This one's special. He wants to kill Kira Aku no."
Afro's eye narrowed. "Then he will die. Like the last five who said the same."
Kenshin stepped forward. "I don't care what happens to me. She killed my family."
Afro's gaze shifted to the mark on Kenshin's neck. "Black Flame. Entity: Kurobatsu. Hmph. That one chooses only those with a death wish."
Kenshin met his stare. "Then help me die stronger."
Afro was silent. Then, without warning—he vanished.
SHING!
Kenshin barely dodged as a blade slashed through where his head had been.
"Lesson one," Afro said behind him. "If you want revenge, learn to survive first."
---
The training was cruel.
Afro gave no introductions, no guidance, only combat. From sunrise to midnight, he attacked Kenshin without mercy. Every blow was a lesson. Every cut reminded Kenshin he wasn't ready.
But with each fall… he stood again.
The mark awakened more each time. It responded to pain. Anger. Resolve.
By the fifth day, black flames curled from his fingertips when he swung a wooden sword.
"Good," Afro said gruffly, watching from the shadows. "But don't trust the flame. It feeds on you too."
That night, Kenshin collapsed beside the shrine, his body soaked in sweat and blood. Hayate handed him a roasted rabbit leg.
"Congrats," Hayate said, smirking. "You survived Afro's warm-up."
Kenshin coughed, laughing weakly. "That was a warm-up?"
Hayate sat beside him, chewing. "I once trained under him for six months. Didn't smile once."
Kenshin glanced at him. "Why did you come back?"
"Because I owe him. And because you're not the only one who lost people to Kira." Hayate looked up at the stars. "She took someone from me too. Someone I loved."
Kenshin nodded slowly. "Then why don't you go after her?"
Hayate smirked. "Because I'm smart. And you're angry."
---
The next morning, Afro handed Kenshin a black blade.
It was unlike anything he'd ever seen—slender, curved like a fang, and warm to the touch. The edge shimmered with the same hue as his curse mark.
"A blade forged for the Marked," Afro said. "Fed by your curse. But it's a two-edged pact."
Kenshin held it. The mark on his neck pulsed, and black flame ran up the blade.
Afro continued. "Each cursed gains a unique domain—an ability born of their pain. But the stronger your domain, the closer you drift to corruption."
"Corruption?" Kenshin asked.
"The loss of self. The mark becomes you. You become it. And then you stop being human."
Kenshin looked at the flame swirling along the blade's edge.
"I won't let it control me."
Afro's eye burned. "Then show me your resolve."
He drew his own blade.
And charged.
---
The spar was savage.
Afro was a storm—every strike a hurricane, every dodge impossibly fast. Kenshin's cursed blade tried to keep up, but he was outmatched.
Until the mark flared.
In a split-second, Kenshin's body vanished in a burst of black flame—reappearing behind Afro. A flash step born of fire.
SLASH!
His blade stopped inches from Afro's throat.
But Afro didn't move.
He nodded once. "You touched your domain. Good. But it's still sleeping."
Kenshin collapsed, panting. "Then wake it."
Afro sheathed his blade. "It'll awaken soon. Pain will bring it out. Pain… or battle."
He turned his back. "Rest. Tomorrow, we hunt your first Cursed Beast. If you survive, you may just live long enough to face her."
Kenshin looked down at the black blade in his hands. The flame within it flickered—not wildly, but with purpose.
He wasn't ready yet.
But he was on the path.
And Kira Aku no's days were numbered.