Private Tales Duel Beneath the Black Sky

[Rob Yew]

In the air, smoke. Thick and overpowering. A black blanket upon the sky, blocking out all but the strongest rays of the sun. Beneath this dark carpet, upon a rocky, barren hellscape, scraggly, leafless trees struggled for survival among the crags. Around them burn eternal fires. Great pits of tar and oil, lit hundreds of years ago, burn with a fury, belching great pillars of smoke into the air which feed into the dark carpet covering the sun. There are dozens of such fires all across the landscape, with columns rising from each. The stench is oppressive and the air polluted. The ground here long ago became infertile. Only the damned dwell here, in this region known only as the Blightlands.

There is a cave nearby in an outcropping of rock. Two figures stumble from its mouth. One is older, but his face is smooth shaven. The other wears his dark hair long, the sour lines of his face dotted with stubble, and he wears a black tunic over black, loose fitting pants. A simple katana hangs from his belt and his left hand grips its hilt tightly.

Now we see the scene unfold.

“This is all your fault, Rintaro,” said the one in black, his chest rising and falling as deep breaths saw in and out of his lungs. His knuckles are turning white as they grip the hilt. “Fucking idiot. I could have saved her.”

 

[Rintaro]

Rintaro was the oldest of five brothers, which gave him the strength to cut down the great warriors of rival clans and fend off the Blight Legions from the fringes of his homeland. They called him many things–hero, invincible, peerless, but he only ever took pride in being an older brother.

The samurai’s garbs were of warm hues and earthen tones. His garment's long, loose sleeves were held up by a sash made from white cord that looped over both shoulders and crossed at his back.

“Renji,” he raised his hands in a taming gesture.

Never one to raise his voice nor wear his concern openly, Rintaro’s half-lidded gaze settled upon Renji’s tightening grip. Where the older brother’s graceful swordplay was lauded by the Lords of these lands and feared by the enemies that encroached on its borders, the younger was overlooked.

None knew Renji’s strength better than Rintaro.

“Brother, be calm.”

 

[Rob Yew]

“Calm?”

Renji’s nostrils flared, his black robes tattered from their journey into the depths of the world.

The noxious, sulfurous clouds overhead seemed a mirror to Renji’s own features, dark brows slashing down in a murderous scowl.

“After what happened to her? Calm?“

A dark fury pulsed through Renji. Hands shaking with apoplectic rage gripped the sheath of his sword, the other poised above the hilt, ready to draw.

“This is all because of you. You couldn’t let me have her and so…” his throat constricted, tightening up so much that it was painful to even speak,” “and so now she’s gone. There’s no living without her. No feeling. I can’t. I can’t feel anything.”

Anything but this raw anger and boiling hate.

“Draw your fucking blade, brother.”

 

[Rintaro]

We're going home.​

Rintaro's arms were heavy. No, he was heavy all over. Scrapes and scratches now exposed to the toxic air stung like tiny fires had lit under his skin. The older brother's fingers curled over the hilt of his sword, and the thumb of his other hand pushed against the guard, exposing a sliver of faintly glowing steel.

Though he held Renji in the center of his view, Rintaro's gaze was absent and he stared through his younger brother. His fine hair, tied back so as to be out of his eyes, whipped as a hot breeze roared past them.

"Put your grievances to rest," Rin said plainly, "The wall between our ability is insurmountable."

 

[Rob Yew]

"Is it?" Renji bit out.

His brother did not know, could not know, what he had done to get them access to the underworld. Only blind fools made deals with Yaraka. And Renji had been blind with hate and foolish with love. In exchange for a mere soul, his soul, Renji gained power beyond his brother's understanding.

There was an insurmountable difference between their abilities.

But not in the way Rintaro thought.

A burst of motion, impossibly fast. Sandaled feet kicking up poisoned soil. Then Renji's sword rasped from its sheath in an iaijutsu draw cut, a wicked hiss through the air.

 

[Rintaro]

Rintaro preemptively drew his blade to meet the charge. What he knew was that Renji would come first and would attempt to draw first. But what the older brother had awaited came at a speed far exceeding his predictions. The katana, when unsheathed, became enwreathed with light that trailed behind his swing, and as his blade met Renji's, blue sparks danced from the clash of swords. It was a cut aimed at Renji's wrist, mistimed due to the younger brother's unexpected speed.

He skipped away, his hands aching from absorbing the weight of Renji's sword, a twin forged alongside Rintaro's own, and took his stance.

"What have you done!" Rin hissed, "Bartering with demons!"

 

[Rob Yew]

Breathing deep, the stench of sulfur and burning tar burned his lungs. He charged forward with quick footsteps, not willing to let his brother regain his balance.

Fueled by the demon's power, Renji rained down a deluge of quick overhead blows, muscles straining along his arms, abdomen clenching, thews bunching tight, as he put every ounce of his body into the strikes with his blade.

Called Heaven's Fire, it was the twin of Rintaro's own, forged by a famous smith from a meteorite for the two brothers. Meant to be paired against foes, not wielded against one another.

But none of them ever meant for this to happen.

"I did-"

Renji felt a pounding in his head, the beat of his heart like the tattoo of a blood-curdling drum. So much rage ripping through his raw and weeping mind that his whole body trembled with the decoction of hate and adrenaline.

"-what you wouldn't."

Rintaro would never make such a dark deal. Not even to save her. And that's why he didn't deserve her. And why they failed. Renji would do anything to hold her again. Rin would just stand there and say he couldn't while quoting dead fucking philosophers.