Akari rolled her eyes, ignoring his self-indulgent sulking.
“Let’s talk Kotogatari for a minute… We can still manifest a Kotogami’s power even if problematic events in the spirit’s past are intentionally omitted from certain copies, right? So does the same ring true for events that were actually maybe true but were never included in the first place because history forgot them?”
“Your guess would be correct, Mistress.”
“So then my question, nay, my suggestion is this: If the narration is so influential, is it then possible to manifest the Kotogami’s spirit power into whatever form I like? I mean, can such factors be left to the Narrator’s choice?”
Both Tomohito and Kansuke looked aghast at this question.
“Theoretically, it’s possible if one specifies such a thing when narrating…”
“Hey, where the heck are you planning to manifest me? Don’t put me in Tomohito’s body; I absolutely forbid it.”
“All right. But here’s what I’m thinking. LordSlayer though you may be, you’d never kill yourself, right? So what if you and your master—your Narrator—shared the same body?”
Kansuke looked trepidatious, but Akari met his gaze unblinkingly, despite her nerves. This plan was her suggestion, and she was prepared to take responsibility for whatever happened. Besides, she had faith in her convictions.
Whether Kansuke was a loyal samurai or a feckless reprobate was still to be seen. This way, Akari could find out who the real Kansuke Mishima was. She’d have proof.
Having clearly grasped Akari’s plan, Tomohito was white and speechless. Kansuke, for his part, looked decidedly unimpressed.
“Are you some kind of idiot, girly?”
“A true samurai could do it, though, right?”
Actually, Akari had no idea what would happen. Maybe her plan would fail spectacularly.
She wasn’t even sure why she wanted to go this route so badly. But she knew she couldn’t turn back now.
Even so…Kansuke had been so frightening in his demigod form…just horrible. What if…
As Tomohito wrung his hands wretchedly, everything in the room seemed to suddenly vibrate.
The fury of the Nue was shaking the entire house down to its very foundations. There was no more time to lose.
Kansuke sighed reluctantly. What other choice did they have?
“All right. Then let’s get on with it. Use me as you will.”
“I’m just going to speak the truth. Then we’ll see if you really are the greatest samurai the Yamato Empire has ever known.”
Kansuke snorted again.
“You really do remind me of her, so much…”
Kansuke shook his head slightly as he gazed at her, and Akari thought she saw a glint of nostalgia in his eyes. What to make of that? Never mind. She’d gotten Kansuke on board. Reluctantly so, but on board all the same.
But Tomohito still seemed fretful.
“Mistress Akari, are you sure you’re all right to narrate from the Kotogatari?”
Nope, actually. She felt as though her resolve would fail her at any moment. Nonetheless…
“I’m sticking to historical facts. At least how I interpreted them. A bunch of people believing a falsehood doesn’t make it true. I hate when people think that. Now show me how to narrate.”
“Yes, Mistress…”
Chewing his lip, Tomohito watched as Akari picked up the blue-gray Kotogatari volume once more.
A sudden wave of fear seemed to rise up in her throat, but she forced it back down.
She didn’t know why she was so determined to do this, but she couldn’t stop now. The historical figure she had so admired—she didn’t want to believe he was that kind of man after all.
“Then please open the book to your desired page. Preferably one detailing the powers you wish to manifest. That will make it easier.”
As instructed, Akari opened the book. Then she flipped through until she reached the section about how the unequaled samurai slayed the fearsome Nue. The book was an old one, but the black ink of the cursive letters seemed fresh on the white page.
“Now, please narrate, describing the essence of the spirit you wish to manifest and in what form. Speak from the belly and summon the spirit. But choose your words carefully, as you address the soul of the spirit itself. It is an invocation, a prayer to the spirit’s immortal soul.”
An invocation… A spirit’s immortal soul… Akari let those words flow past her. Focusing on the enormity of them right now would do her no good.
She didn’t know what she wanted to manifest. She was just going to stick to what she knew in her heart to be true. That would be easiest.
This wasn’t a story she was telling. This was her, communicating her true feelings to the Kotogami.
She tried to steady her thoughts. Gazing at the samurai before her, Akari took a deep breath and began to speak.
“In loyal service to thy lord,
thou defied morality itself,
and yet remain a hero among warriors.
Now lend to me thy sword, thy skill, thy loyalty,
as I lend to thee my body as thy vessel.
The DemonSlayer Kansuke Mishima!”
The blue-gray ribbon of energy began to rise from the book, seeming brighter than ever before.
Shooting over to Kansuke, the ribbon folded itself around him and drew tight, changing the shape and form of the man bound within.
When the ribbon faded away, only a mighty samurai sword remained, floating in the air.
It had a black lacquered scabbard, and the hilt was wrapped with white cloth. It was Kansuke’s famous sword, known as Narugami’s Fury.
Akari took the sword in hand. At that exact moment, she felt a presence enter her body and mind.
“Not bad, not bad at all.”
She could hear Kansuke’s thoughts inside her head. The sword, which must have been very heavy indeed, felt as light as a feather in her hand.
Then, Akari’s body began to move without her willing it to.
She felt Kansuke within her, moving her body as he chose. She sensed his surprise, his joy.
Akari’s plan seemed to have worked. She tried to sigh with relief but could not. She was not in control of her body.