Chapter Text
Anguish. The horrid feeling electrocuting his veins. The ashen skies painted in gloomy grey. His senses suffocated by the scent of bitter iron. His tongue burning and full of cuts. Ears stuck on a melody of screams and clashing weapons. Here lay a samurai clutching his eye. His comrade’s sword soaked in their beloved teacher’s blood. DRIP. DRIP. DRIP. The droplets pattered against the rubble ground, forming a small stream towards the injured boy’s legs. Grief swarmed the battlefield, and all he could do was a pathetic attempt to clutch his injured eye, rendered helpless to the tragedy before him. Takasugi Shinsuke lost. His teacher dead. His supposed “comrades” useless. The boy drowned in white and red stood unnervingly still, just staring at him, red eyes jaded. No matter how deeply you searched, life avoided the pale boy’s irises like the plague. Gintoki.
HOW DARE YOU?!
You killed the only man keeping us afloat in this futile war!
WHY?! He cannot fathom the reason for his betrayal. Gintoki, Takasugi, and their other childhood friend/comrade Katsura all swore to protect their mentor and the values he upheld. It’s why they trudged through barren lands, clustered with their fallen comrades, broken brittle bones and limbs scattered across. Why…? Their mentor’s smile as he uttered his last words to the said traitor. Why would Gintoki choose to save him and Katsura? It should’ve been their mentor. They should’ve died proud. Cowards. He and his comrades are traitors to their own country. Traitors to the invading alien species attempting to colonise them. The entire globe shunned them. But that was alright. They had each other. That’s all that mattered. Haha. Haha haha! The number of bodies piled on the battlefield, thousands of samurai’s lives thrown away in promise of a better world. Their families left with the gaping wounds of their loved ones. His men, the men he promised to lead to victory, all dead. Some leader he was.
He lay his back on the ground and looked to his left. Blood seeping out of his left eye. Katsura sat on his knees, streams of fluid washing his face as his mouth grimaced. He turned his attention to the dull sky above him. Some fingers clutching the sword by his side, feeling the rough texture of the fabric wrapped around the handle hoping to snap him out of this nightmare. White noise banged against his eardrums, reality losing its grip on him. The peripheral view of his comrades disappearing slowly and steadily. His consciousness humming a lullaby to his eyes, making them docile and shut. It was like the earth was trying to swallow him whole, with no regrets on how to get back to the surface. Fine. Take him to the depths of this revolting world, he is a failure, couldn’t save his men, mentor, and comrades from this misery.
He did not deserve the title of ‘samurai’.
If he could be foolish and brazen enough to wish…He’d wish to save his mentor no matter the cost, even at the expense of his own mediocre life.
He’d take that chance in a heartbeat.
…
Muffled mummers made him stir awake. His left eye throbbing to its own tune of discomfort. The air enveloped him in a cage, his right eye scanning the surroundings, black everywhere to be seen. His chest constricted, and oxygen now felt like a rare commodity. He tried moving his legs and arms, resting in slumber. Bang! They hit a solid wall. Not too thick, wood perhaps? Damn. DAMMIT! He’s in a box! In a literal sense. Did the aliens take him captive? What about Gintoki and Katsura? Are they captives too?
He doesn’t have time to find out. His right arm flails about searching for his sword. Clunk! Yes! Grip firm around the sword and his fist clenched, Takasugi punches the wooden frame away with little force. Whoosh! Light crawls in the box like insects ravaging a rotten apple, causing his eye to squint as the wooden door hits the ground. Eye adjusting to the new environment, he immediately pulls his sword out, legs ready in the stance for battle, as whispers usher around. He turns his head around in frantic swishes, eyeing for potential enemies. Small boys in midnight purple hoods assembled in a crowd. All sitting around like some damn cult. In front, on the stage, beheld a tall man with dark short hair, pale skin, sharp talons decorating his fingers and eyes glowing an unnatural yellow hue under a mask masquerading him as some crow. This place had no stench of death that he was familiar with. Takasugi still held his stance; no way they would catch him off guard. Over his dead body. What was this? Some small faction of the bastards who killed his mentor? The crow would fit the description, since he wore the same bird mask as those aliens, albeit it’s a different colour scheme and shape. He could be their leader. I need more information first.
Hands still squeezing the life out of his sword, he focused his eye on the crow, a question lingering on his lips. “Where the hell am I alien bastard?!” The crow flinched, posture straightening and eyes wide. Black sclera obscuring any emotion in them. Damn, it’s going to be hard to get a read on this guy. He glanced right and…is that a floating mirror? “Wow, someone was eager to get out! A little patience would do, dear student, the sorting mirror is not going anywhere,” the crow exclaimed. He looked back at the bastard, head still towards the direction of the mirror. “Don’t make me repeat, you lanky bird. I’ll give you one chance. Tell me where the hell you abducted me to, where my comrades are, and where my mentor’s body is? Otherwise, I’ll cut your tongue off first, then your claws, and finally go for those lifeless eyes,” he sneered.
Gulp. Takasugi observed the way the crow’s throat swallowed in response, as the bird backed away inch by inch. “Move once more and I’ll have your feet severed.” His left eye trembled, and the hot sensation of liquid touched his cheek, descending towards the ground. The crow froze and shivered, “ahem…” he raised his hand to cover his mouth. “Well, dear student, I’m not sure what you are so confused about, or why you’re covered in blood, but anyone in Twisted Wonderland would know the prestige of Night Raven College!” “Twisted what now? Night raven, huh?” A school for educating these aliens? Perfect. He could stop these aliens’ future generations from reaching their potential, halting their spread across his country. “You know the wonderful world we live in called Twisted Wonderland! This school is one of Sage Island’s top mage academies! My, my, did you hit your head while getting into the carriage?”
Halt. Something’s not right. They’re talking on two different wavelengths here. His gut feeling is screaming to press for information. He looked back at the audience of teenagers, some frightened, others bored, and a select few gazes bore holes into his head. They look…human. Shit. What’s going on? “I... I don’t belong here”, his heart thrummed against his chest, beads of sweat trickled on his forehead and back, his breath more ragged and laboured as desperation took its last swing to his head. The world span in endless circles, and the crow lurched forward, talons aiming for Takasugi’s vulnerable body. He stepped back, but all the strength escaped his limbs, arms going slack and more fluid rushing down his face. He gritted his teeth, “I…won’t let you kill me, alien. I will have my revenge. On you, the other bastards who invaded Japan- MY HOME-and that bastard Gintoki. I will BURN it all down. Till the screams of my fallen comrades no longer haunt my days.” He dropped to the ground as the last of his energy depleted from that mere statement. Huh. The ground’s softer than I thought it’d be. His only working eye glimpsed the crow rambling in a frenzy at him, his talons clutching Takasugi’s wounded body with gentle care. Takasugi’s blood coating the bird’s white shirt. Why was the crow dressed so formally, anyway? Yeah, he was dying. Probably lost too much blood in the battle, now it’s caught up to his body, and he’s lost the endurance race. So much for revenge. Another of the countless lies he spat out, as if was going to change the past.
The crow shook him, pleading for him to stay awake, and screams swallowed the hall (now that’s a tune his ears are used to). He could’ve sworn the mirror had a face overlooking him in worry. How odd. Takasugi Shinsuke is now going to die away from the battlefield. His eye closed shut, mind seconds away from slumber.
A worthless death in the arms of the damn talking crow.