Reflections

Gaijin sighed as he stepped out of the pipe and into his underground home. It had been another day of scouting for Fumon, and a long one at that. Though no longer an organized clan, there were still many of the creatures left roaming Surasasa Land. Looking around, he saw that Aki had yet to return from her half of their patrol. He wasn't worried though, she was perfectly capable of holding her own in battle. Besides, she'd call if she needed backup.

He stared longingly at the couch for a moment, wanting nothing more than to rest, but Gaijin knew he needed to see to his weapon first, and make sure no Fumon had gotten into the burrow during their absence. Searching the small home went quickly for the goombah, and luckily there were no Fumon hiding today. "We really should block that pipe or something when we go out," he thought as he entered the weapons room. He stored that thought away for later, then saw to his Pixel Cutter. The enchanted katana proved to be holding up very well, and only required a cleaning before being put away. As he hung the sword on its rack, a black sheath nearby caught his attention. He frowned as he noticed a thin layer of dust covering it. How long had it been since he'd checked this sword? Had he really been so neglectful? He had been very busy as of late though... But no, leaving it to that state was inexcusable for such a valuable item. Pulling the obsidian katana free of its sheath, he examined it, relieved that it hadn't rusted or molded. The blade needed sharpening though, and its mirror finish was dull.

Sharpening the blade gave him time to think. Time to remember. The Devil Slicer had imprisoned many Fumon within its blade over the years, and he wondered how many more need be vanquished before their threat was ended. The battle to shatter their clan had undoubtedly been his hardest yet, when he had taken on their leader, Daku. Something caught Gaijin's eye as the sword blade slowly mirrored under his steady care. A baleful red eye, the gleam of white tusk, the black and jagged red of a terrible scar...

A chill ran down the goombah's spine, and he shook himself, looking again. Only his own reflection stared back from the polished metal.

"I must be more tired than I thought." he said quietly. Finishing his work, he left the blade to air, and headed to bed for a quick nap. As he walked away, Gaijin suddenly had the feeling that he was being watched. He turned quickly, scanning the area as only someone used to hunting ninja could. But the room was empty. He was alone. Shrugging it off as his mind playing tricks, he turned again and left the room.

From the depths of the Devil Slicer's blade, Daku's red eyes gleamed as he watched Gaijin leave. The katana's magic couldn't hold him forever. He would wait for the right moment to escape. Once he was free, the Fumon would be united once more, and Gaijin and his clan would fall...