They’ll skin me alive if they catch me. Too bad they never will.

     A barrage of waves traveled the surface of a lake, assaulting a young man with hair the color of forest leaves.

     I mean, even if they did. How would they know? Although drenched, the young man smiled, retaliating with his own barrage of waves. You know what. I’m not going to worry about that right now. I’m having way too much fun.

     Feminine laughter exploded into the quiet atmosphere like notes from a trumpet.

     A woman just as young, wiped droplets from her mahogany eyes. “Okay, okay, you win.”

     “Victorious yet again,” said the young man, impersonating a grandiose persona.

     Laughter ensued once more, this time a duet.

     Moonlight danced atop the young woman’s olive complexion as she reclined to a float. “You cheat.”

     The young man gave a playful roll of the eyes. “Never, you just suck.”

     A mocking gasp escaped the young woman, and the young man wasted no time reclining to float alongside her, his spiky hair swaying in the water.

     He gazed up at lantern-adorned chains caught in a tug of war with the surrounding trees. “Why haven’t we come here before? This is way better than that meadow you always take me to.”

     “You already know why—too risky.”

     Specks of lake water flicked about as the young man jolted up, his handsome face wrought with irritation. “I’m sick of sneaking around all the time.”

     “Oh, really? Isn’t that what your people are trained to do?” asked the young woman with sarcasm.

     A grumpy look found the young man, but it soon crumbled behind the weight of a smirk. “This is totally different, and you know it.”

     “Can we just enjoy the water?”

     “Okay, but think about it. It’s been five months already and nothing’s happened. We could get away with anything at this point.”

     Flipping over, the young woman rush-swam to shore.

     “Babe? Where are you going?” called the young man, his face scrunched with confusion.

     Splashing water was the only response he received.

     What’s up with her?

     The young woman ascended the sandy, underwater slope, exposing her fit physique to the summer breeze. Liquid beads dripped from her silver hair, down her white bathing attire. A knit bag curled up by tree roots lured her. From it came a purple towel with a symbol emblazoned upon it. She dried herself with it.

     The young man vacated the water as well and took pause. He couldn’t resist admiring the anatomic view with his steel-blue eyes.

     Many sensual thoughts flew like comets through his mind. “You’re not going home already, are you? We have plenty of time.”

     “No, Obake. You have plenty of time. I don’t think you get it. If my mom ever finds out what I’m doing, she’ll…”

     Obake’s tongue shriveled. Great, she hates me now.

      A dingy leather satchel waited for him; he pulled a plain towel from it and dried his black swim shorts and toned caramel skin. A pearl kimono and setta sandals clothed the young woman. Subtle looks of shame flashed from her eyes. In a contemplative manner, she sat, pushing tear drop shaped candies past her plump lips.

     Obake put on his black keikogi and zori sandals then sat beside her.

     “Don’t worry,” His heart played the drums. “One day we won’t have to deal with all this.”

     “I hope so.”

     The strong trace of melancholia in her voice didn’t go ignored.

     “You know, next time we meet we’ll be back in my neck of the woods. Want to go somewhere new or head to the usual spot?”

     “The usual spot, I could use some more relaxation.”

     A ruffle of bushes and shuffle of sand tinged Obake’s ears. He and the young woman spun around fast enough to induce whiplash.

     “What do we have here?”

      The forest seemed to have learned speech until an imposing man marched into the moon’s field of vision. He sported a conical hat, ebony hue and jian sword. His expensive armor displayed a symbol that matched the one from the young woman’s towel.

     Oh shit, a Gazzo Samurai!

“If it isn’t little Meilana, sneaking around in the early morning with some punk.”

     Obake scrambled to his feet, sand shoveling beneath them. “You know this guy?”

     Meilana stood with caution, mumbling something unintelligible along the way; she couldn’t peel her eyes from the new arrival.  

     A whistle released from the imposing samurai and the bushes began to shake. “The Grandmagistra isn’t going to be happy about this.”

     Nine additional men wearing the same armor surrounded the couple, their hostile energy suffocating the area.

     More of them? So much for never getting caught.        “I’m spending time with a friend. It’s no big deal,” said Meilana.

     “Where I come from, friends don’t cuddle together under the stars.” The imposing samurai snickered. “Especially not at Illumino Lake.”

     The other samurai snickered, too, while Obake’s focus darted between them. Most looked average except for two. One of which could be mistaken for a child. The other, a pinkish man, held extra weight that complimented his black beard and bald head, the sides of which contained stubborn spikes of hair.

     Meilana whispered through fastened teeth. “You need to make a run for it.”

     “Are you crazy?” Obake whispered back. “I’m not leaving you.”

     Her tone shifted to one of confidence. “I’ll be fine. They wouldn’t dare lay a finger on me.”

     What’s that all about?

     “Hey now, we like secrets too. Isn’t that right, fellas?” said the imposing samurai. 

     “Got that right boss,” said a large nosed samurai as he and his companions nodded along.

     Meilana ambled closer, her arms outstretched like a zookeeper trying to calm a lion. “I’m sorry. Don’t tell my mom. I won’t sneak out again, I promise.”

     The imposing samurai rolled his shoulders in an irritated fashion. “No can do. I’ve maintained her trust for nearly a decade. I’m not going to screw that up for you and your hormones.”

     Is her mom somebody important?

     “Come on, Juroiza. Please!”

     “I said no!” Juroiza’s voice boomed with enough force to rival a demolition.

     Who does he think he’s talking to like that? Fire joined the blood coursing through Obake. “Hey! Do us all a favor and get the fuck out of here.”

     “Would you look at that? Seems we have a tough guy on our hands. What clan are you from, kid?” asked Juroiza.

     “All you need to know is I’m here visiting your wife.”

     Juroiza laughed aloud. “You’re a funny guy. I see why she likes you. Tell you what. I have a feeling you know how to fight. Why don’t you show me a thing or two?”

     Meilana’s eyes widened with worry. The other samurai murmured with excitement.

     “I’d love to,” said Obake vigorously.

Meilana refused to move. “No. This isn’t necessary.”

     Juroiza reached for the embroidered sword fastened to his back. Distress twisted Meilana’s features.

     Sliding past her, Obake took his stance. “I’ll be fine.” Maybe I should’ve thought this through. How am I supposed to defend against that? Maybe I can take it from him.

     The child sized samurai came forward to receive his boss’ sword.

     An exhale of relief spilled from the young man. Okay. Perfect.

     Obake rushed forward, catching everyone off guard. Vaulting through the air, he delivered a kick designed to remove his opponent’s head. Both of Juroiza’s arms shot up, blocking with the efficiency of steel bars. Obake’s follow up elbow became snagged in Juroiza’s palm. He cocked a fist, but Obake was too fast. He put a foot in Juroiza’s gut like a gardener planting an apple seed. Juroiza hunched, breath shooting from his mouth. His gaze turned savage; he faked a kick then switched to a punch that sent stars prancing around Obake’s vision.

     Obake shook it off then rushed forward again. I’m going to rip his head off! He evaded a series of jabs and hooks before countering with an uppercut that Juroiza slipped. He can’t dodge me forever.

     Throwing a kick in retaliation cost Juroiza another strike to the gut. His eyes bulged while saliva sprayed between his teeth. Obake concluded his combo with a hook of his own. It connected with such force that his enemy went spiraling. Juroiza’s fancy hat tumbled across the sand like a wheel on the loose.

     Not so scary after all.

     Meilana and the other samurai stood dumbfounded. With ferocity, each of the samurai brandished their weapons and advanced.

     Juroiza thrust himself up. “No!”

     Each of the nine samurai paused as if they’d combust from doing anything else.

     “That was a mistake,” said Juroiza, prodding the dribble of blood on his lips.

     He launched a soaring knee to the head, but Obake repelled it with both hands. A leg sweep came for Obake next, when that missed Juroiza front flipped.

     What is he—?

     A boot rained upon Obake’s head like falling hail. As his brain struggled to process the shock, he saw another boot headed his way. Seizing it, he rushed Juroiza onto his backside. As Juroiza fell, he clenched Obake’s wrists then tossed him over. The sand stung Obake’s back on impact.

     Both combatants staggered up to face one another. A woozy spell embraced Obake, but that didn’t stop him from issuing a desperate jab. Upon grabbing the jab, Juroiza jerked Obake into his knee. A heel then collided with Obake’s back like an axe through wood. Obake slammed on his face so hard, it was amazing blood didn’t burst from every orifice on his head. A malevolent grin spread Juroiza’s lips. He then shoved his opponent’s face into the sand with his foot.

     No, no! He’s trying to kill me. He’s trying to kill me!

      Obake’s nose sank into the sand, preventing air. He couldn’t breathe through his mouth either. Copious amounts of sand entered his mouth like an hourglass moving in reverse.

     I can’t go out like this. Not like this.

     Almost frothing with joy, Juroiza continued grinding Obake’s head into the sand. “That’s right. Go to sleep little man.”

     Meilana hurried forward and got manhandled by two of the samurai. She lurched free and heaved an elbow at the enormous nose behind her. The samurai’s head whipped back along with a dog like yelp. Her fist then deployed to clobber the mustached samurai in front of her. She ran, but didn’t get far. Three additional samurai jumped in, restraining her like a vice grip.

     To no avail, she squirmed and squirmed. “Get off of him!” she said, frantic terror embedded in her words.

     Leave her alone, you bastards.

     Juroiza’s leg began lifting against his will. “What!”

     Streams of sand trickled down the crevices of Obake’s ears and the ridges of his cheeks as his head ascended. I won’t let him win.

     Saliva infused lumps of sand flopped from Obake’s mouth, granting a much-needed breath. He growled like a cornered wolf, eyes bloodshot, face vibrating with fury.

     Juroiza applied more pressure. “Get back down there!”

     Obake thrust upwards with great force, sending Juroiza stumbling back.

     Obake staggered to his feet, body unbalanced and fidgety, fists raised. “Time for round two.”

     Meilana was beyond thrilled, but Juroiza and the other samurai had the exact opposite reaction.

     Retrieving his hat, Juroiza brushed it off then placed it on his head. “I have to hand it to you kid, you’re one tough son of a bitch, but I think we’re done here.”

     Juroiza also reclaimed his sword, then turned toward the forest and whistled once more. A thump went off that soon settled into a steady rhythm. Half a minute later, a gorgeous white stallion trotted along. In a paternal manner, Juroiza caressed it. The stallion nudged against him, soaking in the attention.

     “Bring her to me,” commanded Juroiza.

     The three samurai restraining Meilana paraded her to Juroiza. She resisted with each step, but still couldn’t pry herself free.

     “Get off her,” said Obake, shuffling at them as best he could.

     “Shut up.” The black bearded samurai pushed Obake back. “That’s enough out of you.” His voice was thick, choppy.

     After forcing Meilana onto the stallion, Juroiza joined her.

     The child sized samurai made his approach. “Should we accompany you to meet her mother, sir?”

     “Imbecile. Never refer to the Grandmagistra that way. Show some damn respect.”

     The child sized samurai winced. “Yes, sir. My apologies, sir.”

     Juroiza sighed. “I’ll ride ahead and take her back to the castle. The rest of you bring her little boyfriend. I still have questions.”

     Did I hear what I think I heard? No. I imagined it. There’s no way she’s her daughter. Right? As Obake contemplated, an epiphany washed over him like an icy wave. What do I really know about her? Her family is...? Well, she has a sister… I think. She has a dog. No, a cat… wait. I don’t know.

     His head spun with questions he wanted immediate answers to. Meilana looked back at him with unease and shame.

     Her lips quivered then mouthed: “Go. Please.”

     Juroiza snapped the reins around his stallion and set off. In the time needed to complete a few blinks, Meilana had gone, distant thuds of stallion hooves in her wake.

     Although exhausted, Obake could feel a second wind fast approaching. Each of the other samurai scowled at him, but only the one with the black beard spoke.

     “We’re going to have some fun with you first.”

     That doesn’t sound good. Obake sized each of them up. I can’t fight them all.

     “What did you have in mind, Agalo?” asked the child sized samurai.

     Agalo looked upon Obake, contemplating. “We’re going to take you some place real fun.”

     Dammit. It’s true. They really are going to skin me alive. After that, they’ll feed me to some wild dogs. No. They’ll probably make me their slave first. I have to get out of here.

     Agalo gestured toward his companions. “Let’s go, gentlemen.”

     In unison, all nine samurai whistled. A melodic stampede unleashed. Nine horses of different colors and sizes galloped into the vicinity.

     The samurai mounted their steeds as Agalo circled behind Obake. “Put your hands behind your back. Won’t have you doing your fancy moves on me.”

     Jangling chains filled Obake’s ears as cold metal kissed his wrists. Before Agalo could fasten the shackles, Obake head bunted him. The dig of teeth in his skull didn’t slow him one bit. He beelined for his satchel first, then for the one available horse. After mounting it, he gave it a hard smack to the rear. Soon enough he was shifting through the trees at great speed.      

     He glanced back, hoping luck would’ve taken his side; it hadn’t. All nine samurai gained on him fast. Agalo rode in tandem with the child sized samurai, affording him the luxury of unoccupied hands. He drew many arrows and let a volley hit the night sky. Some arrows streaked past Obake’s head to disappear into the distance. Others ended up striking nearby trees. Unable to maneuver well became problematic for Obake. Five of the nine horsemen caught up, three in the rear with katanas at the ready. Two of the horsemen preferred weapons of a different variety, a bō staff and a hatchet. They rode up on either side, boxing Obake in. 

     Come on! Go faster!

     Obake caught the bō staff swinging toward him, tugged it away, then threw it back. It repelled off its owner with a rowdy thud. The hatchet came swinging next. After dodging each slash, Obake felt a vibration at the rear of his horse.

     Don’t tell me—

     He looked back to find the bō staff wielder tight roping his horse’s spine. Grimy fingers soon laced around his throat. Every tree ahead blurred as the pressure intensified.

     Again, the hatchet came, and again it missed. Obake pivoted his horse toward the hatchet wielder, causing the bō staff wielder to catapult into the cleaving weapon. Blood gushed from the fatal neck wound like a miniature waterfall.

     Oh, shit… I’ve never…

     The bō staff wielder’s eyes rolled back as he fell, the hatchet still wedged in his neck. A sickening crunch echoed with each tumble of his body and the shadows were quick to claim him.

     Unable to pry his eyes away, the hatchet wielder sustained a hard kick to the chest from Obake. As he flew from his horse, he clutched the top of the saddle, his fingers slipped thereafter. He dropped under his horse and got trampled, the snapping and cracking of his bones made Obake cringe.

     What did I just do?

     The horse balked then reversed back toward its crippled rider. At that moment, Obake heard another arrow whistle by. He turned a gaze to find Agalo firing again. Agalo’s next arrow approached so low, Obake had to lie down. Zooming overhead, the arrow stabbed Obake’s horse near the ear. It squealed then fumbled over. Obake jumped to the bō staff wielders’ horse, which still ran alongside him. Upon landing, Obake peered through the canopy. An enormous wall drew ever closer; he steered his horse right at it.

     I can’t let them follow me any further.

     Seven horsemen were still hot on Obake’s trail. He reached into his satchel, which remained strapped to his torso despite the commotion. After a bit of rummaging, he retrieved two small kitchen knives. Holding both knives tight, he threw them at his targets with precision.

     One knife aimed at the horsemen closest to Agalo, the samurai with the mustache. It hit him center mass, he flopped forward, dead. His body bobbed about in eerie fashion as the horse continued at full speed. Before long, the bloody corpse tumbled off, which prompted the horse to slow down. The second knife went for Agalo and his child sized partner. They saw it coming and swerved out of the way. Luck didn’t shield the horseman riding behind them, so the knife plunged deep into his eye. As he fell, his foot tangled in the reins. For several feet, his body dragged across the ground. Before long, the horse noticed and halted. Five horsemen remained.

     Obake pulled out a round, iron object with a button-like protrusion. Upon pushing the button, the object became hot and started to smoke. He lobbed it behind himself, right in the path of his pursuers.

     Not a moment too soon, the child sized samurai steered away. The object hit the ground with a furious explosion. Nothing but smoke and debris found Obake’s eyes when he looked back.

A horse then pierced through the debris, followed by a second. Of those remaining, two horses didn’t make it out. The horses, along with their riders, took the full brunt of the explosion. When the smoke cleared, Obake saw them. Glued to the ground, they wailed together in agony, like ghosts singing in a quartet. Extensive damage befell the child sized samurai as well, his throat sliced open from the shrapnel. He made a repugnant gurgling noise before Agalo shoved him off the horse.

     A feeling of disgust invaded Obake’s headspace. I’ve never killed anyone. What am I now? A monster? He kicked the thoughts from his mind and refocused. How do I get rid of these last two? Wait… that’s it, the Nuojo Grand Chasm!

      Veering off course, Obake headed straight for a gaping chasm. Speeding up, the final two horsemen passed Obake. Agalo hopped across the chasm with ease. Along with his big bloody nose, the other horseman jumped too. Unlike Agalo, he and his horse weren’t successful. Their bodies crashed back and forth against the chasm walls until meeting the jagged rocks below.

     Nerves firing, Obake pet his horse. “You can do this.”

     His attempt to boost the animal’s confidence failed. As soon as the horse saw the edge, it panicked and stopped. Obake went airborne—right into the chasm’s air space. To his surprise, he cleared the chasm and found himself several feet above Agalo.

     Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!

     The bearded samurai aimed his bow, firing a single arrow. Obake couldn’t dodge it this time. It impaled his right bicep; the pain was strong, but not stronger than his will to live. He twisted, using his shoulder to slam into Agalo. They fell together, but Obake was on top, forcing Agalo to take most of the rocky ground’s wallop.