A Demon and a Ghost walk into a bar...

[Kuzuru]

Perfection.

Perfection was the goal. Every strike and every slash had to be perfect. No movement could be wasted, every maneuver had to have purpose. Renji scowled, striking out for the hundredth time. Ever since Kuzuru had sealed himself away Renji noticed that his strength and precision had been fading. Small incremental amounts, but the flaws were painfully obvious. He was slower and his technique had become sloppy. He was no longer a perfect swordsman and it infuriated him to no end. For the past week Renji had been practicing non-stop on the outskirts of Ambrosia.

　　“Jeeze you’re boring” the soft echoing voice of Wanda sent a shiver down Renji’s spine. The ghost girl had followed him from the haunted forest and now insisted on tormenting him. The translucent blue girl floated upside-down in front of Renji. Her perpetual grin almost seemed to mock him.
　　
　　“Come on, let’s go meet some people” Wanda spoke.
　　
　　“Why?”
　　
　　“All work and no play makes you boring as hell to watch.”
　　
　　“Then go bother somebody else ghost,” he paused to sheath his sword “I don’t have the patience for your antics.”
　　
　　Wanda frowned as the grumpy swordsman turned his back on her incorporeal form. During his foray into the haunted forest he seemed so full of life and energy, but now all he did was wait around a train. She hated his inaction. She hated how utterly dull he was. She hated how he obsessed over training. And yet, yet despite his shortcomings she felt an inexplicable draw to the swordsman. It was only a matter of time before the unstable swordsman exploded and she wanted to have front row seats. His internal drive for self-perfection and the demon’s lust for absolute control were at odds and all that was needed was a catalyst to spark the resulting fallout.
　　
　　Wanda grinned wickedly. Yes, it was just a matter of time.
　　
　　Renji’s cabin was a simple single story building constructed on the edge of Ambrosia. The forest almost swallowed the quaint little cabin and Renji was glad that its remoteness kept the other denizens of Ambrosia away. He had only agreed to protect Ambrosia in the hopes of finding more warriors to slaughter, but the town seemed more intent on reaching amicable agreements with adversaries. The swordsman groaned and sat down on a simple mat in the center of the room. His daily rituals never changed, he would practice swordsmanship for the majority of the morning and before lunch he would retire and meditate. It was a simple existence based upon the idea of self-improvement.
　　
　　The pale blue ghost girl had other plans. She needed to see excitement something to take her mind from the inescapable boredom of living with a swordsman married to his craft. No, another day would not be spent watching an overzealous swordsman clear his mind and sit motionless for hours on end. She floated down in front of the zen-man his perception of the outside world was nonexistent in such a complete state of introspection. Or perhaps he was simply good at ignoring her, whatever the case was he would be lucid very soon. A basin filled with frigid water floated precariously above Renji’s head. With the malice of a preteen prankster the ghost girl willed the basin to spill its contents onto the meditating swordsman.
　　
　　“You little bastard” Renji growled, reaching for his sword in frustration. He went to strike but the poltergeist floated away giggling. She stuck her bright blue tongue out at Renji.
　　
　　Wanda smirked and taunted “strange how you went straight for your sword huh?”
　　
　　The drenched samurai looked away from the ghost girl and sheathed his sword “I was just startled is all.”
　　
　　The ghost girl laughed and floated back down to Renji, bringing herself face-to-face with him. She hung upside-down, but her spectral clothing and hair seemed unaffected by gravity. A guttural groan crawled from her throat and her face contorted into that of a terrifying creature made of fangs and braided tendrils. Renji leaned back in apprehension a sense of dread and doom crawled over his body. She carried on for a few more seconds before breaking into a giggle fit.
　　
　　Her delicate hands covered her perpetually smiling mouth and she whispered “excuse me.”
　　
　　“Why don’t you go bug someone else?”
　　
　　“Because I wanna bother you” she pouted.
　　
　　“Why me?” Renji asked.
　　
　　“Why not?” she snickered before continuing “but, listen if you don’t stop being such a snore I’ll keep throwing water on you.”
　　
　　Being assaulted by possessed water buckets sent a glower on Renji’s face. His feet shuffled slowly towards the door of his cabin. He was a millennial warrior, an immortal swordsman destined for eternal conflict and he was expected to socialize with civilians? Even if they were strange creatures, and most of the were, he had no expectation of camaraderie among fellows. All he had to do was satisfy Wanda’s lust for excitement and he would be free to retire to his hole. Well, he was hungry perhaps stopping at a restaurant would sate Wanda’s desire?

[Kuzuru]

　　Ambrosia seemed to hold a quiet distance with Renji, or more accurately he held a quiet distance away from them. In his universe he had no need for friends, his life was spent honing his craft and defeating adversaries. Settling down in one place made little sense for a nomadic warrior, but in the Omniverse things were different. Never would he openly admit it, but he did find some comfort in the normality of civilized life. A roof over his head and three hot meals filled Renji with a quiet desire to serve the town. It was strange, ever since his demon’s absence he had begun to feel more at peace with the world. The restless nagging for battle and blood had faded from the back of his mind, and although he still sought perfection in swordplay he no longer had the insatiable lust for spilled blood.
　　
　　Perhaps Rou’s resurgence and subsequent coup d’etat had been a blessing in disguise. A tainted mind would never realize how poisoned it was until clarity was restored. And Rou brought clarity, almost painfully so. He remembered Sara and the painful stream of memories that her name brought. Soft auburn hair and a gentle smile had melted his frigid heart and beckoned him to settle. But, as with most things in Renji’s life, this was nothing more than another ghost, a faded memory lost in the head of an immortal man.
　　
　　“Hey over there!” Wanda zipped around the daydreaming swordsman and pointed at the nearby diner.
　　
　　“The Sty and Fry” Renji muttered, feeling the weight of the words in his mouth.
　　
　　“Let’s go there, I heard they have good food...” her mouth drooled at the thought of food.
　　
　　The ghost floated overhead, drifting next to Renji with her back parallel to the earth. She tilted her head back and looked at the upside down diner. Mischief crossed her mind and she suppressed a giggle at the thought of how much of a nuisance she could be in a diner. Not that her goal was to be a nuisance, it was just that living people were always so boring . If she was considered a nuisance for bringing entertainment to the dull lives of the living than so be it. As the two entered the tavern she phased through the floorboards and set to work.
　　
　　“Welcome to the Sty and Fry! My name’s Mina and I’ll get you seated!” the enthusiastic voice of a humanoid pig-lady greeted the swordsman.
　　
　　“Erm, thanks.” Renji responded.

　　“Right this way,” she led Renji to a table towards the back of the restaurant. His sharp eyes darted around the building, trying to keep track of his incorporeal companion. With a sigh he sat down at his appointed table, thoroughly fed up with Wanda’s antics. With a smile he turned his attention to the menu, and much to his chagrin there was a distinct lack of meat. It wasn’t that he was averse to the thought of a vegan lifestyle, but rather he had an indescribable hunger for meat. With a sigh he shrugged and lowered the menu.

　　“Can I get you something to drink?”
　　
　　“Just water, thank you.” Renji requested.
　　
　　Instinctively the swordsman rested his palm on the handle of his cursed blade. The citizens of Ambrosia seemed, for the most part, harmless. Even still it was some twisted habit, he was a rabid dog protecting a shank of meat. Or more accurately a starving dog protecting scraps of a bone. He no longer felt the demon’s power coursing through his veins. With the inmates of his sword running free within his psyche he could no longer rely on their collective power. Now he was a just a man with a sword, aided only by his personal skill and strength, and he felt weak . Snapping the swordsman back to reality Mina returned with his drink.
　　
　　Hey look over there.

　　Rou’s familiar voice echoed through Renji’s skull. The swordsman flinched and gripped his glass of water tightly, trying to carved his fingernails into the smooth glass. The sound of microphone feedback pierced Renji’s ears and he grit his teeth in pain. Somehow, through some godforsaken miracle the inmate Rou had figured out how to communicate with Renji.
　　
　　Helloooo is this thing on? Can you here me?
　　
　　Rou, how are you able to speak to me?
　　
　　I broke into Kuzuru’s office, and I gotsta this place is pretty high class.
　　
　　Where is the demon?!
　　
　　Who knows, more importantly who cares?
　　
　　Renji sighed and bit the back of his palm in frustration. Rou ignored his frustration and continued speaking into Renji’s mind.
　　
　　Man, I can even influence your actions from here, hell I can even alter your memories.
　　
　　Like hell you can.
　　
　　You have no idea how much control that demon had over you do you?
　　
　　...
　　
　　Don’t worry, you’re some pretty decent entertainment so I won’t mess with anything.
　　
　　Gee thanks.
　　
　　At any rate, the reason I’m up here is cause Wanda is right, you are getting pretty boring. Don’t worry though! I’ve got a plan, take a look up are the bar.
　　
　　Help wanted?
　　
　　Yeah, so listen these people were nice enough to take you in and let you stay in their town and asides from chase away a few orcs you haven’t done shit.
　　
　　And?
　　
　　And, you want to turn over a new leaf, so start here become their bartender and contribute to the community.
　　
　　I don’t know anything about alcohol.
　　
　　Do you know how many bartenders you’ve killed? Their is at least a thousand of them in here.
　　
　　They aren’t locked in the prison anymore, I can’t use their knowledge.
　　
　　Not forcefully, but we can choose to offer you our strength and knowledge. Not that everyone will, but I’m sure I can convince a few of the bartenders to help you out on the pretense of you becoming a better person.
　　
　　Fine, whatever.
　　
　　

[Kuzuru]

The bar was a shabby looking addition to the resturaunt, it almost seemed to have been created as an afterthought. Attached to the back wall was the curved counter of the bar itself. Shelves upon shelves sat behind the solid wood counter, waiting to hold bottles of spirits or liquors. Central to the wall behind the counter sat a body-length mirror, covered in a thin layer of dust. Peeking out from behind a small alcove in the wall was an imperial jukebox, pristine aside from a shell of dust bunnies clinging to its lacquered surface. A series of pool tables lined the back wall, their perfect felt too fell victim to the encroaching legion of dust. Slowly Renji followed Mina, taking in every aspect of his new workplace.

This place is going to need some work, but I think it'll do nicely

Rou's voice took up an uncomfortable amount of space in Reji's head. He was calmer than Kuzuru and seemed to have a kinder heart, but his mere presence carried implications that the swordsman did not care to pursue. How many innocent souls had he swallowed in his conquest for perfection? The sword-demon had kept him intoxicated with power and precision; it wasn't until his exodus to the Omniverse that he truly questioned his own motives. Just how many souls were now imprisoned in his own blade, and subsequently his own mind? Probably too many to count, an eternity of bloodshed had no doubt produced a near impossible body-count. Could such a debt ever be repayed?

Doubtful.

Mina pulled the swordsman from his self-reflective stupor with her cheery voice. “I know it isn't much, but you can do with it what you'd like! We, uhm, don't have any alcohol right now either so you'll have to make one. I heard you were a prime so that shouldn't be too big of an issue right?”

“Oh that's no problem at all,” Rou spoke through Renji's mouth. His eyes went wide as his mental passenger exerted control over his speech. Even the demon had never overtly taken autonomy from his host, but rather nudged him in the desired direction. This sudden lack of self-control, however minor, sent chills through his body. Slowly he moved his extremities, starting with his fingers and toes before moving to his arms and legs. Everything was still within his control, and yet for that one startling moment Rou had become the pilot of his body.

"Are you alright Renji?" the pig-girl half-giggled, "you look like you've seen a ghost."

"Yeah," he responded, turning his attention to Mina, "yeah, just a headache I'm fine. I'll get this bar up and running by afternoon."

"I'll leave you to it!"

Mina scurried back into the main portion of the resturaunt, leaving Renji to his own devices. Slowly he stepped behind the bar and ran his finger across the dusty counter. Absentmindedly his other hand rested on the hilt of his wicked weapon. He turned to face himself in the mirror, the face of a killer stared back from behind a sheen of detritus.

Rou can you hear me?

Yeah, what's up buddy?

About earlier, you controlling my words-

Oh that? I was just messing around is all. No harm no foul.

Listen, if you ever do that again, I will not hesitate to deliver every last drop of omnilium to that demon. Do you hear me?

Loud and clea-

"BOO!"

A mounstrous face erupted from behind the glass, startling the poor warrior. Instinctually he reached for his blade and began to draw it. The ghastly face transformed into a giggling ghost girl, one that he was far too familiar with. Renji scowled and sheathed his sword, it was the first time that the ghost girl had managed to truly frighten him, and she seemed to enjoy every moment of it.

"You wretched girl," the swordsman snarled, "you're lucky I didn't cleave you in half."

She simply stuck her oversized blue tongue out at Renji and snickered, "whatever," before floating back beneath the floorboards of the building.

[Kuzuru]

Perfection.

Another task, another chance for perfection.

Even a mundane task such s bartending had enough intricacies to keep Renji occupied. His entire life had been one of mastery, and this was no different. As he cleaned Rou fed him knowledge, every scrap and every nuance of his newfound job was meticulously combed through. The vast wealth of information that the prisoners within the Sword of Lost Souls was overwhelming to say the least. Thousands of mixed drinks and exotic liquors filled his memory. Hidden within these streams of data was more than just simple cocktail recipes.

Experiences, living breathing memories from souls now long departed. Thousands of experiences, mixed with the pure visceral knowledge. The particular bitter taste of a teenager’s first beer, Renji could remember it as if he was there. A lover’s favorite wine and the way the light sent a sheen of gold through her auburn hair. Another’s memory, but it felt so truly real to the swordsman. Thousands of memories, more visceral than dreams, sparked against the walls of his skull. Like single frames of movies he had never seen, these were all nothing more than the experiences of the dead.

“Stop!” Renji half-shouted, piercing through the cacophonous veil.

What? Something wrong Renji?

Taking a deep breath the swordsman composed himself and spoke inwardly to Rou.

I don’t need all of this - trivial garbage you’re feeding me.

What do you mean?

The memories dammit, the memories that you’re trying to dump into my head. I just need to know how to serve drinks, not all of this other bullshit.

The memories come with the knowledge Renji-boy, they’re intertwined.

I never had to swallow the memories of the dead when Kuzuru taught me combat.

Yes you did, but they were all memories of wars and bloodshed. You never noticed simply because of how deep the demon’s control was. Think carefully Renji, how much can you remember of your past?

My memory is fine.

Is it? Think back, what can you remember? Nothing but combat and bloodshed, how much of it is simply the memories of others stitched in to give you a faux sense of experience? I bet you don’t even remember your daughter’s name..

Daughter?

Oh my, did I let that slip?

I had a daughter?

No, at least not anymore.

Rou, what happened to my daughter?

She died, it was all very tragic. It would be best if you didn’t pry.

How did she die Rou? What was her name?

Listen, you really don’t want to push this issue.

Rou you fuck, tell me how she died!

No. And I’m going to be leaving now, you have a bar to run, and you should now have enough knowledge to run it.

Rou!

Rou! Answer me!

Renji fumed within the confines of his own mind. His entire reality was precariously balanced upon the fact that his memories were immutable. That they were in fact set in stone and perfect. Rou had shattered that comforting falsehood, even now the swordsman scanned his history for discrepancies. He lived through eons and now everything was nothing more than a blur of blood and death. There was nothing more than bloodshed and slaughter. The mere thought of a daughter sent him reeling, he had no memories of a daughter. Perhaps the voice in his head was fucking with him? It certainly wasn’t out of character for Rou, but it was still an unsettling thought.

Rou was right, he had a bar to run. The sun had began to set and the night crowd would soon be approaching. Worrying about his corrupted memories was wasted effort at this point, nothing more than another distraction. All that mattered now was the present, and presently there was no alcohol in the bar. Nothing that a liberal application of omnilium could not fix. The rainbow substance flared to life as Renji manipulated it carefully. Various bottles of intoxicating liquid materialized along the counters behind the bar. Everything was ready for tonight, the grand opening of the pub.

“Pffft, you look silly,” the ghostly voice of Wanda giggled, “a bartending samurai, how ridiculous.”

“Well then, sounds like I’ll have to change into something snappier.”

Renji smirked and channeled the remainder of his omnilium into a fresh outfit. A jet black suit-vest paired with dress pants. Underneath the vest peeked a long-sleeved blood-red dress shirt. Tying it all together a ink-black tie bisected the whole ensemble. It wasn’t exactly his usual style, but it was sharp enough to work.

[Guu]

Continued from "A Demon Child in Pokute Palace"

Renji was cleaning glasses for the evening rush, when he heard someone come through the door.

“We’re not open yet. Come back la-”

Standing at the door was the now infamous Ambrosian Princess, her eyes bore the general dull appearance. She walked up to the bar and hovered onto one of the stools.

“One Chocolate Milk.” She said to the samurai.

“Oh, we normally only serve booze and soda here.”

A long silence befell the room as the two stared at each other for a while. The warrior sighed.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He moved into the back, leaving Guu alone to her thoughts. A lot of her injuries were healed, but not completely. It was a sign she didn’t sleep a full 24-hours, but she kind of wish she had. Having a broken bone stored next to your lungs is a bitch.

Suddenly, the blue glowing ghost materialized in the stool next to her.

“I remember you.” She said, who’s voice almost was sickeningly cheerful. “You went in the forest to help those lost animals. All the other ghosts were scared of you! It was funny!”

The pink princess turned to look at the girl. Not even finding it odd a ghost was in the bar, she decided an idle conversation was better than probing questions.

“You don’t seem to be scared of me.” She pointed out.

“Yep! I don’t believe what they say about you.”

“What do the ghosts say?”

However, before she could answer, Renji came back out, glass of chocolate milk in hand. He placed it on the counter. Guu looked back over to where the ghost had been and she had vanished. Guu sighed and turned her attention back to Renji.

“The place next door has Chocolate milk. The next time you want some, you probably should head over there.” Said the samurai.

“I know, I just wanted to check the new place out.”

Renji moved in to turn on the TV, which was playing Omniverse News Network. Ron Burgundy went on and on about local politics and the like. Guu took the moment to do a full check on Renji. There was so much complexity in the man. She could sense many many souls around him, vying for control, and power. Between him and gildarts, she seemed to attract the tortured souls with mad powers, doesn’t she?

“So you’re running a bar now? That’s cool. Do anything to get by I guess.”

Renji went back to wiping down glasses.

“Yeah, the owners needed one and I thought it might be good training.”

She would question his logic, but she knew very well that the most useful of skills come from the least expected jobs.

Guu slurped down her chocolate milk while half paying attention to the TV. Ron got on the topic of super powered items called the “Star Pieces” that some astronauts were hunting down.

Curious, she pulled out her phone and looked it up. There was a shard excavation in the Tangled. Such a power source could be a threat to Ambrosia, or a powerful ally of it; it was worth looking into at least. She made a mental note of the name of the lead researcher and the location he was in.

Swallowing the glass whole and tossing a few coins onto the counter, she leapt off the barstool.

“Well, I have some errands to run.” She said casually. She pulled out an empty glass from her stomach and placed it on the bar. She casually walked out, searching for someone that could take her to The Hidden Temple.

To be continued in “Hoshi no Guu.”

[Kuzuru]

That girl, that princess was a strange one. Her child-like proportions hid a veritable force of nature. A younger Renji would have drawn his sword against her to feel the heat of battle. But with the demon's absence he no longer held that same fire. Without Kuzuru his blood lust was absent, and in the power vacuum left thousands of souls silently battling for dominance. Guu had offered him a quiet life in Ambrosia, she had offered him like amongst them as if he had always lived there. Ironically enough the monstrous girl and otherworldy citizen's offered a stunning bastion of normalcy and safety. Despite his lack of propinquity with the other denizens he would be lying if he said that he didn't feel a sense of endearment towards the ambrosians.

"They'll be coming any time now," Wanda spoke, "I can sense them."

"Wanda," Renji began, taking a slight pause before continuing, "try to keep your antics to a minimum."

The translucent ghost girl giggled, "I can't promise anything, especially since you all are such easy targets."

The evening rush came in short spurts of strange and curious characters. Exotic drinks and brews were mixed and imbibed, filling Renji's patrons with mirth and intoxication. The swordsman trhived within the fast-paced occupation. His hands worked as fast as his legs carried him, little flourishes cemented his expertise in the mind of the ambrosians. The ageless man worked as if he had been a bartender for hundreds of years, and yet he had learned all of this within a day. Knowledge was simply the natural culmination of memories, and despite the memories being owned by others Renji found comfort in his proficiency. Life had simply been one conquest after another, one skill perfected over the course of centuries. Pride was to be found within any skill, even if it was of little use in battle.

Late into the night Renji worked, spreading merriment and speaking with the charisma of a seasoned salesman. Many names were learned and remembered, but there was one patron who stood out above all others. An older european man with greying hair and a sword strapped to his hip. He walked with the gentle swagger of a man confident in his abilities, but with nothing to prove. Chad Millwell, the first swordsman that Renji had met in the Omniverse. Their first duel was cut short by a bounty hunter, looking to claim the old man's head. Slowly and deliberatly the man walked towards the bar and sat in front of the counter, offering a kind smile to the bartender.

"My my, I had no idea you were a bartender Renji," Chad spoke with a measured kindness, but his steel-cold eyes pierced through the smokey haze present within the bar.

Someone was tap-dancing upon Renji's grave, his spine filled with ice-water as his eyes met Chad's. There was a hidden lethality about the man, something that one could only sense through experience. When they had sparred the old swordsman was holding back, Renji was sure of it. Even with his demonic speed and enhanced reflexes Chad was able to keep up with him easily. This challenge manifested itself as an itch deep within Renji's abdomen. The need for improvement, the need to press blade against blade, body against body, blood spilling blood.

Sweet delicious blood.

"Well, you know what they say," Renji responded, polishing a glass, "any port in a storm, I needed a job and they offered. What'll you have friend?"

"Black Beetle Brew, please" Chad answered.

"Seems to be a favorite around here," Renji offered idle small talk.

Chad shrugged and smiled, "well, most of the alchohol from my home universe is unknown here, so I've had to adapt."

"So what happened with that bounty hunter?"

"Hmmm?" Chad asked as if he had never been hunted before in his life.

"Talos, the purple guy," Renji paused for a moment before handing the old man his drink.

"Oh him," the old man took a drink from his glass and smiled knowingly, "well after your little distraction, he lost track of me. Afterwards I stumbled upon this little village, and I've been wandering in and out of here for the past week or so. Though, it is odd I haven't seen you around here before now."

"Yeah, I usually keep to myself," Renji responded, sliding a glass of liquor down the bar table to another patron, "this whole 'bartender' thing is outside of my comfort zone."

"Strange that someone as talented as you would keep to themselves," Chad finished his brink and glanced behind him, "don't you know? Life is best spent in the warm company of others."

"My own company is more than enough for me," Renji glanced over at his sword resting underneath the bar counter, "though I must admit that socializing like this is a nice change of pace."

Both warriors spoke to each other as old friends would do. The only break in their conversation was the occasional order of booze, which Renji would quickly mix up and send out. Most of the patrons had filtered out, leaving behind a smoldering crowd of drunkards and pool sharks. Millwell had drank his fair share of booze, but seemed wholly unaffected except for a red flushing of his flesh. Last call echoed across the barroom as Renji glanced at the racing clock. Outside a few curious flecks of snow dashed themselves against the window, melting into rain drops. Asides from the occasional spilled glass or wobbly chair ghost-girl's antics were strangely absent. After what seemed to be an eternity of friendly banter Chad stood and adjusted his sword, making sure it was tight against his body.

"Well Renji, it was a delight talking with you," he smiled sincerely.

"Likewise."

The elder swordsman sniffed the air sharply before turning his back towards Renji, "smells like there will be blood tonight."

I smell it too.

"What do you mean?" Renji asked his newfound friend.

"Oh, nothing really," Chad left for the door, "have a good night Renji."

[Kuzuru]

Well now, that wasn't so bad was it?

Rou's echoeing voice, rebounded within the walls of Renji's cranium. Schizophrenics have it easy. Although the bartender did have to admit that this job wasn't as completely boring as he first imagined it. In fact the liveliness of ambrosians seemed to have rubbed off upon the stoic swordsman. With a gentle whistle he turned out the lights and left into the crisp night air. The small flakes of snow had finally accumulated into a small crunchy pathway beneath Renji's feet. Shivering reminded him of how poorly designed his outfit was for the winter. Though, to be fair, one would be foolish to bet on snow in the Tangled Green. On the other hand, however, one would be foolish to completely dismiss such an oddity in the Omniverse.

Still the snow was of no consequence to the ancient bladesman. No the scent of blood upon the wind sent chills through his spine, more visceral than any blast of cold air could. A crumpled bleeding body sat, a frozen testament to a horrid deed. Carefully Renji approached, hand at his sword and keen eyes scanning his surroundings. If a battle were to break out, his current outfit would no doubt restrict his movement ever so slightly. In a conflict to the death, ever so slightly was all that was needed to put one's foot into a casket.

“Oooh a dead body,” Wanda cooed, floating above Renji, “how spooky.”

Marshall Woodrop was an aspiring guardsman, barely wet behind the ears before he was cut down. Large shards of silvery metal sat scattered across the snow, all that remained of his sword. Deep cuts were carved into the man's flesh and tacky blood mixed with the snow, creating a macabre slushy. Clearly a battle had transpired, but it appeared as if poor Marshall had never stood a chance. Either a skilled swordsman or a terrifying beast had done the young man in. There were only a handful of warriors that Renji had every met that could turn their opponent's blade asunder. He would also be lying if he didn't say he felt a hint of excitement at the thought of dueling a ruthless opponent. His thoughts turned back to that green-skinned warrior, Retane, that man brought the first real challenge that Renji had faced in centuries.

“Halt criminal!” a diminutive, but commanding voice declared.

Renji turned around to face the voice. A flying cat creature floated precariously above the ground and next to him two guardsmen stood with their weapons drawn. The fuzzy creature sported a fashionable plaid deerstalker and puffed smoke from a cruved pipe. Next to his hat bobbed a bright red pom of fuzz attatched to his skull by way of a thin black wire. Draped across his cream color body a little brown vest was pulled tight. He pointed accusingly at Renji, who took a step away from the body and raised his hands in deference.

“You've got the wrong guy, I just got here.”

A small crowd had begun to gather around them, the occasional gasp cut through the muttering. Instinctively Renji reached for his sword, his veins pumped adrenaline and he could taste the blood in the air. How many could he take? There were only two guardsmen, and most of the civilians were frail beings. How many gallons of blood could he spill if he slashed outwards? That smell of blood, Marshall's blood, the blood of a man he had never even met. Heat, a flushing of red raced across Renji's skin and sweat turned his collar damp.

Kill


Them


All

“You gonna play this the hard way kupo?” the moogle detective asked, blowing a plume of smoke into the chilled air.

"No," Renji snapped his hand away from the hilt of his blade, "sorry you just startled me is all. Though you've got the wrong guy, I didn't kill him, I've been working at the bar all night."

The detective raised a fuzzy eyebrow and asked, "so you're the new bartender eh? New in town yeah?"

"I mean, I've been here for a few weeks, but I suppose I'm still pretty fresh."

"I see," the moogle pensively puffed his pipe before speaking again, "well my name is Detective J.E. Kupo, and I'm investigating a string of murders kupo. Maybe you're in the wrong place at the wrong time, but I can't take that chance kupo. Would you mind coming with me and answering some questions?"

There was a pause in the air as the spectating crowd watched with bated breath. Gentle snow flaked down from the heavens, oblivious to the tense standoff below it. Renji kept his hand away from his blade, the urge to draw fresh blood was strangely intoxicating. Even with his inner demon subdued the scent of blood brought memories of carnage and slaughter to his mind. More guardsman arrived, nearly surrounding the samurai-turned-bartender.

"Well J.E. I suppose I don't have much of a choice, I'll tag along with you."

[Kuzuru]

The moogle's office was a small plain-colored building situated near the heart of Ambrosia. Across the front evenly space black letters spelled out 'OFFICE OF J.E. KUPO, PRIVATE DETECTIVE'. Despite the creature's affable appearance he was no doubt a being of little humor. After it became more or less apparent that Renji wasn't a direct threat the guardsmen force petered out and returned to their posts. Only J.E., Renji, and the little ghost girl Wanda remained and they walked in relative silence. This whole song and dance was taxing Renji's patience. His bartending gig was enjoyable sure, but the constant interaction with the patrons taxed his already antisocial personality. Being forcefully dragged along by some kind of bat-cat puff ball to be interrogating for a crime he did not commit put a certain kind of sour on his mood. Still he followed the floating moogle into his office, hoping to absolve himself of any responsibility. Inside the building Renji is hit with a wave of nostalgia. J.E.'s office is reminiscent of an old 1950s classic crime noir film, complete with the dim lighting and moody atmosphere.

Taking a puff from his pipe the detective floated over to his chair and took a seat, "so mind telling me your name, and what you were doing near a dead body in the middle of the night?"

Renji coughed to clear his throat, "my name is Renji Kiyomasa, and I just happened to stumble upon it walking back home from work."

"And you work at the bar, kupo?"

"Yes, as a bartender. Tonight was actually the first night it was up and running."

"I suppose I did hear something about that," J.E. paused for a moment before responding, "I believe you, I don't think the killer is a man."

"Why do you say that?"

"Take a look at these," he said, sliding a stack of photographs over to the bartender, "all of the victim's weapons were shattered. Kupo."

Renji scanned through the crime scene photos. Six murders in total, not counting Marshall Woodrop's expiration. All six of them had a weapon of some sorts, and all six weapons were annihilated. Renji's heart skipped a beat as he leafed through the stack of photos. The sight of blood sparked something primal in him. Kuzuru's influence drove a stake through his heart and gripped his windpipe. Conflict. Lust for a good fight, for a vicious opponent sparked through the swordsman's core, drowning him in anticipation. Their was no choice, he was a bolt of lightning drawn to metal, he had to find the killer. Man or beast it meant little to the anxious swordsman, if it was capable of such ruthless slaughter it would make a fine opponent.

"I doubt a beast could kill in such a manner J.E."

"Oh?" the moogle puffed his pipe some more and tapped his fuzzy hand on the desk, "perhaps not a beast, but an orc or some other beastly race kupo?"

"No," Renji pointed at several photos, tapping on points of focus, "your first instinct is to assume that these weapons were shattered by a bludgeon or some other dull, but strong force. But look at the victim's wounds, they appear to be razor-thin slashing cuts. More than likely these were created with a blade of some kind."

"Hmmm, then how would hat explain the destroyed weapons? Kupo."

"I've seen countless warriors in my lifetime J.E. a skilled bladesman could perform miracles with his sword, I bet that is even truer here in the Omniverse."

"I see. Well that is worrying, kupo."

"Indeed, I've told the princess that I'd protect her village. A murderer on the loose makes me appear incompetent, I suppose I have little choice but to help you track down the killer J.E."

"I'd appreciate any help you could offer Renji, truth be told I've more or less hit a brick wall in this investigation. I believe the killer is not an Ambrosian."

"Why?"

"All of the deaths happened in the dead of night, and since most Ambrosians are such social beings I've yet to find one that doesn't have a solid alibi. Kupo. I think the killer is sneaking into Ambrosia at night, killing his victim and then retreating into the forest before sunrise."

"Buhhhhh," the ghost girl groaned as she floated overhead, "you guys are soooo booooring."

"Is she a friend of yours kupo?" J.E. asked, raising a quizzing eyebrow at the blue translucent girl floating above his office.

"I wouldn't say friend," Renji sighed, "she won't leave me alone."

"I see kupo," J.E. passed Renji a small folder, "at any rate here are copies of all my notes and photos regarding these murders, perhaps you'll be able to catch the fiend before I can, kupo."

"I'll try my best J.E."

The swordsman and ghost left the detective and began their quiet trudge back home. Wanda floated by wistfully, groaning every now and again about how utterly dull her companion was. Renji stayed silent, choosing instead to mull over the details of each murder. Most of the victims were attacked in their homes, they were killed quickly and efficiently. Even those that were seasoned warriors were slaughtered like cattle and their weapons were left devastated. There was a deep unspoken void left in the swordsman after his demon's disappearance. A deep itching beneath the skin, a clawing desire to prove himself without resorting to the demon's power. Like a child wishing to prove himself in the eyes of his father, Renji wished to dispel any doubts about his competence upon the battlefield. Perfection, after all, was best expressed through the conquest of others.

[Kuzuru]

The following day came in slow lazy strokes, the lazy sun seemed to barely rise into the sky. Various birdsongs and insect ballads filled the air with the beautiful cacophony of nature. Ambrosians shuffled to and fro, carrying on with their daily lives; at a glance it seemed that they were oblivious to the string of murders, but hidden beneath the pleasantries and jolly conversations the occasional rumor reared its ugly head. A ruthless killer, striking in the dead of night, ripping to shreds even those that could defend themselves. One could feel the almost unspoken unease that settled upon the forest village. There were a few kind-hearted souls that picked up the mantle of justice and vowed to find the killer, but they all had fallen short. Renji upheld no moral desire to stop the killer, but rather wished to clash blades with another skilled warrior. The Omniverse had brought him Retane, but that battle was a distant memory and it did little to appease the need for conflict that scratched the inside of his skull.

A series of solid knocks rattled the front door to Renji's house, shattering his morning meditation. Slowly he opened his eyes and stretched to his feet. Another heavy staccato threatened to bust the frame of his door. The swordsman swung open his door and found himself swallowed by shade. Before him stood a massive man-beast that threatened to snuff out the sun. The man easily stood seven feet tall and his muscles were carved from granite. His face was that of a bull's and two yellow-stained horns jutted out from his head. Slick black fur, the kind that almost looked purple in the right light, covered his body. Tight-fitting jeans and a red T-shirt strained to keep his intimidating physique in check. The bull-man exhaled through his snout and offered a thick hand to the bewildered swordsman.

Wow, he's a big fucker ain't he?

"Name's Lamont, I was sent here for a job."

"Uhm, okay?" Renji accepted the handshake and responded, "What job? I don't own a business or anything."

"You're the bartender, Renji, right?" Lamont's voice carried a hefty weight, and every word commanded respect.

"Yeah, but I don't own the bar or anything. You'll have to talk to the owners." Renji said, "Mina and Bonita are the ones in charge."

"Already did." Lamont nodded in the direction of the bar, "said you'd have the final deciscion."

"Oh," Renji raised his eyebrows and glanced inside, "Come inside and we'll talk about it I suppose."

Lamont merely grunted in affirmation. His massive form crouched to fit through Renji's door, he had to tilt his head sideways to avoid smacking his doors against the doorframe. Clearly the bull was accustomed to making little adjustments to fit within a much smaller world he moved carefully, but deliberately to avoid any collisions. Renji offered Lamont a seat, and poured him a cup of hot tea. Lamont's chair creaked under his weight and threatened to splinter. The wood-carved cup appeared to be nothing more than a thimble in the bull's meaty mitts. With nothing more than a slight grunt he downed the lukewarm tea and lightly set it back down.

"You want more?" Renji asked.

"No."

"So, uh," the swordsman paused, "What kind of job are you looking for?"

"Bouncer."

"Right," Renji took a sip from his tea, "well you certainly look capable, you got any experience with this sort of thing?"

"Yeah," he responded, "I was a bouncer in Camelot."

"I see.”

Their was a moment of reserved silence between the two. Only the gentle sound of Renji sipping his drink cut through the silence. Outside windy gusts bashed against the windowpanes of the swordsman’s house. Lamont sat resolute, his beefy frame refusing to budge an inch. An occasional puff of air left his nostrils as he exhaled sharply, seemingly a trait from his bullish race. Renji finished his drink and finally cut cleanly through the silence, “Very well. Make sure you show up an hour before opening tonight, and you’ll have a job. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Lamont stood and turned towards the exit before uttering a “thank you”.

“Don’t mention it.” Renji responded, “Oh! Also, make sure you dress well.”

“No problem.”

[Kuzuru]

"You're being awfully friendly today."

Once again the swordsman's meditation was interrupted. This time by the pernicious blue-hued ghost that seemed to take pride in plaguing him. She floated through the floorboards beneath him and the tow came face-to-face. Eons of constant battle had honed Renji's senses and he could "feel" her presence without even opening his eyes. The girl was almost always present, shifting through the floorboards or the rafters. Always listening. Renji's days were dotted with occasional pranks from the poltergeist. It became a sort of game, it stopped his mind from wandering for if he lost focus of the present he'd be unable to defend against her strikes. Not that they were wholehearted attacks, but a bucket of ice water dumped on your head has a way of ruining a day quite unlike anything else. So even now, even with his eyes closed, he absorbed every sensory input available. If something moved, if anything so much as twitched within his home he knew it. Renji took his time to respond, taking a deep breath before finally opening his eyes and speaking, "Am I not allowed to talk to others?"

"No, no, not at all," she responded, "that's pretty much the opposite of what I want."

Renji narrowed his eyes and asked, "What do you want?"

"I mean you're so interesting when you interact with others," she ignored the question, "one moment your the battle-scarred samurai, then an amateur detective, also a friendly small-town bartender. It's almost like you're a puppet in a play."

How perceptive.

"I'm not a damned puppet."

She giggled and said, "I guess time will tell. Though I suppose in the hands of a good marionette even puppets think they're real boys."

"What do you want, girl?" He repeated his question with a hint of fury.

"Nothing," Wanda's smile stretched across her face and she floated towards the rafters, "I just like watching you."

With a snicker the ghost-girl zipped through the ceiling and disappeared. Outside the sun was setting, casting its curtain of red and orange across the sky. The lively nature of Ambrosia slowed to a lazier crawl as the citizen's finished their daily toils. Renji sighed and stood, taking a moment to glance towards the ceiling. Puppet. That word nagged at the back of Renji's skull like a vicious hangover. One incapable of controlling their own destiny, one only controlled by forces beyond their reach. Rou's words echoed loudly 'you have no idea how much control that demon had over you'. Puppet. Nothing but a man on a string, forced to go where the strings took him. He shook his head, the ghost was trying to get to him and he refused to let that girl plague his thoughts. He was his own man damnit, now that the demon was gone, no one controlled him.

Renji arrived at the bar before dusk, to ready the place for business. This was mainly just tidying up odds and ends, stocking ice and polishing glasses. Normally a barback would prepare the bar for service and keep everything stocked throughout the night, but the bar was small enough that Renji was able to do it all himself. Not that he necessarily minded that either, there was a soothing nature to these duties, he found solace in preparation. Perhaps it was a side-effect of his need for perfection, prophylactic behavior went hand-in-hand with flawless action. However it wasn't his pursuit of perfection that soothed his soul during these preparatory moments, no it was the absence of mind hidden within them. Busy work allowed his mind to drift into a white space of thought, nothing outside mattered beyond stocking ice or polishing glasses. It was a simple pleasure that the bartender found to quiet his normally chaotic mind.

Like clockwork Lamont arrived an hour before opening, and true to his word he dressed quite dapper. A white long-sleeved dress shirt sat underneath a stark black suit-vest. The white sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, revealing bulging muscles beneath ink-black fur. Black dress pants completed the simple, yet effective, ensemble. Renji took the extra hour to show Lamont around the bar, not that there was much to show, but he showed him nonetheless. There was not much training to be had, Lamont was already experienced and his intimidating stature would prove to be more than enough with such a peaceful crowd. Still the towering bull-man stood stoic and watchful, prepared to bounce any troublemakers.

An unusually large amount of Ambrosians turned up to the bar that night. Renji enjoyed the fast-paced business that a large turnout brought. As usual the characters that ambrosia produced were colorful and varied, and each of them had their own stories. As the night dragged on all but a few patrons remained. A small crowd of dubious characters had congregated around the pool table, a cloud of smoke surrounded them as they puffed their lives away. At the bar a trio of equally odd characters sat, each of them more inebriated than the last. Two of them appeared to One of the three, a younger elf woman with her ears full of rings, asked the other two, "Have you guys heard of the serial killer skulkin' around here lately?"

"The bar?" slurred the middle patron, a travelling merchant from Camelot who had way too much to drink.

"No, silly," she responded.

"She means the whole town," the final one chimed in. His voice was hard and heavy like an anvil, but his body was old and haggard. Slung across his back sat a massive sword, one so large that it was a surprise the old codger could even move, let alone wield it.

Visibly worried, but too drunk to truly panic the merchant spoke in a hushed yet quick tone, "A serial killer in Ambrosia? Oh my. That is no good, none at all. What kinda people does he go after?"

The elf rolled her eyes and responded, "He only goes after strong warriors, I'm sure you'll be fine."

"Nah," the old warrior spoke between gulps of ale, "T'ain't no man, the killer's a beast. Somethin' outta the forest, somethin' mean."

"Oh my, that's even worse." The merchant pulled his hands to his lips and nervously kissed every ring on his fingers.

"Oh that's not true," elf-girl said, "Every victim had a weapon, that can't be a coincidence. The killer only murders warriors."

"Bah, hogwash. And just cause someone has a weapon don't make 'em a warrior neither."

At that point a familiar face entered the bar. Renji's eyes snapped to the newcomer, Chad Millwell, and his neutral expression gave way to a warm smile. The fellow swordsman returned a friendly wave in kind. He sauntered towards the bar, taking his time to observe the pool sharks before his gaze finally rested upon his friend. The elf and veteran continued their banter, much to the increasing dismay of the frightened merchant. Chad greeting Renji with his usual pleasant demeanor and ordered a drink. It took a few sips before he continued a conversation with the bartender, "So Renji, why have you chosen to settle down here? Certainly a man of your martial prowess would prefer to roam the Omniverse and experience all that it has to offer yes?"

"These people saved my life," Renji smirked a bit and continued his story, "Shortly after I fought you, I came upon a green-skinned man."

"Green skinned?"

"Yeah, I think he was some kind of demon or something. He fought ferociously, like a cornered dog. I won, but barely. Just as I was certain I was going to die I happened upon Ambrosia and was save by their doctors. To pay them back I offered my services to the princess. That's the long and short of it anyways."

"Interesting." Chad responded.

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason in particular. Personally I find it difficult to stay in one place for too long."

"You see to have been in Ambrosia for a while," Renji said.

"Hmmm, well we'll see how long that lasts," Chad offered Renji a smile and continued, "Not that I don't enjoy our chats."

Before Renji could reply the elf girl interjected herself into their conversation and asked Chad, "What about you? What do you think about the killer? Man or beast?"

Chad shuddered and took a drink before answering, "It's spooky stuff to be sure. As far as who or what the killer is, I really couldn't say."

"Ah, it don't matter none," the veteran boomed, slamming an empty tankard onto the counter, "Man, beast, they all die the same. Whatever it be, it better not cross paths with me."

"So you fancy yourself a warrior?" Chad asked the veteran, turning to make eye contact with the man.

"Aye, Treshtog they call me and I'm probly the best damn warrior you can find. An' judgin' by that wee pig-sticker at your side you think yourself a swordsman of some sorts."

Chad shrugged, "Compared to yours I do suppose my blade is a little bit on the lighter side of things."

Treshtog laughed and continued his boasting, "I've always said if'n you can't feel the weight of your blade behind your swing, well, you ain't swingin' a blade at'all."

The elf girl sighed and stood up, "You guys are so weird. At any rate I'm out for the night, see ya Renji!"

Soon thereafter the merchant left upon a carpet of fear and inebriation. The two remaining warriors, Treshtog and Chad, regaled each other with old stories of battle and conflict. Renji half-listened to their conversation, and a new wave of patrons took most of his attention away. The night continued on smoothly, asides from the occasional "killer" talk the general spirit of the populace was one of jubilation. Eventually, close to closing time, Treshtog stood and announced his departure to anyone that would listen. The old dog held his liquor well, but the occasional stumble or misstep told the story of night filled to excess. Chad followed his drinking partner's lead and offered a farewell to Renji, "It's a beautiful night tonight Renji. Oh, and please do be careful, I'd hate it if some murderous monstrosity got a hold of my favorite bartender."

"Don't worry," Renji responded, pausing for a moment before continuing, "I'll do my best."

Blood

[Kuzuru]

Shortly after Chad’s departure Renji called closing time, shooing away the drunks and the laggards left behind. There wasn’t much left to do besides clean and shut everything down. A sleepy end to a sleepy night. Lamont and Renji worked in relative silence, only exchanging words when necessary. The anthropomorphic bull was not much of a talker, and after a long night of work Renji appreciated that quality above all else. They worked fast and finished cleaning the bar in record time. Renji grabbed his sword and offered a good night to the hardworking bull.

“Seeya Lamont, good work today,” he said and locked the door as Lamont began to walk away.

The bull spoke over his shoulder, “Thanks, have a good night boss-man.”

“You too.”

The night was calm and quiet. Shadowed clouds swallowed the moon, and kept the world dim. Even the ever-present ghost that followed him was oddly absent. He breathed deeply and thanked the stars for the moment of quiet. Ever since his arrival to the Omniverse serene moments were painstakingly difficult to find. Not that he necessarily minded, but a moment of peace was certainly appreciated. But as with all moments, this one did not last. Above the city a pale blue glow rocketed down towards Renji. Wanda stopped mere inches away from colliding with the bartender and exclaimed, “Renji, there’s going to be another murder!”

“What?” Renji asked.

“Yeah!” She shouted, more excited than distraught, “Near the edge of town I saw two guys fighting.”

“And?” Renji asked.

“And one of them annihilated the other’s weapon! That’s gotta be the serial killer,” Wanda pointed towards the outskirts of town, “If you hurry you might get there before he takes off!”

The swordsman unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt before saying, “Alright, go get the detective. I’ll handle the killer.”

Without another word Renji broke into a sprint, sheath in hand. A certain twinge of excitement danced through his body. His last true fight had been over a month ago, against a demon named Retane. Adrenaline sparked across him like a live wire, and with every step he hastened his pace. His professional attire strained as his legs stretched to accommodate his gait. Tailored clothes hugged his joints tight, restricting movement ever so slightly, and for a perfectionist ever so slightly was a huge deal. Ambrosia was a small city and Renji reached the outskirts. Before him stood the killer, looming over the crumpled corpse of Treshtog.

“Chad?” Renji asked, recognizing his friend as the killer.
“Ah Renji,” Chad spoke, flicking a bead of blood of his sword, “I’m glad you’ve decided to join me.”

“So you’re the murderer?”

Chad shrugged and glanced over at the mangled body of Treshtog, “I suppose there is no point denying it.”

Renji unsheathed his sword and pointed the blade at Chad, “Why?”

“I think you know why, aren’t you a swordsman?”

“What are you getting at?”

Chad began to walk towards Renji, stepping over what was left of Treshtog. There was no moon to witness the night’s bloodshed. All that was left were the two men and the silent demon watching them both. The killer spoke as he leisurely walked towards his next victim, “Barring the Underverse and the Oververse, I’ve killed in every verse. You were one of the lucky few to survive a battle with me, and had that bounty hunter not came along you probably would’ve died. But I did learn something that day, I learned your name Renji Kiyomasa. Ever since that day my life has been dedicated to ending yours, I’m somewhat of a perfectionist I can’t leave a battle unfinished.”

“Stand down Chad.” Renji commanded.

Chad laughed and responded, “Oh come on, I know you want this just as much as I do. Can’t you feel that scratching at the back of your skull? That desire to bang swords with me and see which one of us is the top dog?”

Chad lunged forward stabbing his blade towards Renji’s heart. Without the aid of the demon Renji moved slow and sluggish, barely sidestepping the piercing attack. He slashed outwards, forcing Chad to pull back and create breathing room.

“You moved awfully slow there,” Chad remarked, “don’t tell me you’re out of practice.”

Another dash precipitated another onslaught of strikes. Renji struggled to keep up, adopting a defensive stance and deflecting blow after wicked blow. A clean blow sent a line of red across his shoulder, tearing through his suit vest. Red quickly invaded his clothing as the wound poured his life onto the ground. Renji swung desperately, but his attack was deflected into the dirt. Chad kicked Renji’s chest, sending him sprawling onto his ass. Before Renji could even think to react he was staring down several feet of steel, the point painfully close to his pupil.

“I’m disappointed,” Chad said, glaring at the fallen swordsman, “It’s only been about a month since our last fight and you’ve become worthless.”

He’s right you know.

Kuzuru?

The world seemed to freeze as the demon’s familiar voice whispered between Renji’s ears.

The one and only.

I thought you were gone?

Not gone, waiting. Your little friends in here locked me in the basement so-to-speak.


Waiting for what?

A moment like this one Renji-boy. You can’t beat this guy without my help, without me you’re just a kid playing swordsman.

I don’t want your help.

Fine then, die. I don’t really care, you shouldn’t either to be honest. You’re a prime you’ll just come back to life. Although…

Although what?

Although you’ll come back to life as a loser. A second rate swordsman who couldn’t even beat a secondary. You’ve already lost one to that bounty hunter, you going to lose again? Just give me control, I’ll kill this guy then you can go back to playing bartender with your weirdo friends.

I…

“Well Renji Kiyomasa?” Chad asked, bringing the swordsman back to reality, “Are you really going to die so easily?”

I don’t wanna lose!

A surge of demonic strength pumped through Renji’s veins. With every quickened heartbeat Kuzuru’s power revitalized the fallen warrior. An aura of crimson energy enveloped his hand and with a cobra-like strike he smacked Chad’s sword away. Sensing the sudden reprisal Chad leaped backwards, narrowly avoiding a wild slash. Renji crawled to his feat and raised his sword high. With a flash of steel the demon swordsman stabbed himself in the chest. A twinge of muddy red flushed across his skin and his bones creaked as they grew slightly taller. The whites of his eyes flooded red with blood. He began to laugh. He began to laugh a throaty laugh as his sword was absorbed into his body.

“Oh man, it feels fucking fantastic to have a body again,” The demon spoke through Renji’s mouth.

“What’s going on?” Chad asked, “You changed, what did you do?”

“You made a mistake,” Kuzuru said as he reached for the fresh wound across his shoulder.

“What?”

“You made him bleed,” The demon licked the slick blood from his fingers, “I get all riled up when he bleeds, makes me all kinds of anxious.”

“What - what are you?” Chad asked, edging slightly backwards.

Kuzuru laughed, “I’m the one that’s going to rip you apart.”

[Kuzuru]

Kuzuru stretched his arms into the sky, straining the muscles of his new body. There was no more battlefield, all that remained was a playground, and the demon was going  to have his fill. Chad raised his sword and rushed at his new foe. The demon watched his new plaything charge across the field. Once again a crimson aura enveloped the demon’s fist and he adopted a fighting stance to brace against the blow. A flash of metal cut past Kuzuru as he parried the sword with the back of his hand. Enhanced with demonic force a solid punch crashed into the swordsman’s side and sent him stumbling to the ground.

“You’re outmatched,” Kuzuru said.

Chad gasped for air and scrambled away from the approaching demon. Kuzuru laughed as he stalked forward, savoring every moment of the kill. A gentle breeze danced across the field, scattering the scent of blood and grass into the air. The demon licked his lips and watched as Chad crawled to his feet. “If we met under different circumstances I’d probably think you were a swell guy,” Kuzuru said, “trust me, I can respect your work, indiscriminately killing warriors just so you could feel that rush. However, with such a strong stench of blood in the air I can’t help but wanting more, so please hold still and die.”

“I’m no where near finished,” Chad smiled, “I see you’ve finally decided to take this fight seriously Renji, but I must ask, where did your sword go?”

“Sorry sport, I’m not Renji, that pathetic excuse for a swordsman is long gone,” Kuzuru held his arms out and continued, “As for his sword, well, you’re looking at him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Okay, enough of this fucking talking,” Kuzuru lunged forward, unleashing a flurry of punches. Enveloped by a shell of demonic force, his flesh became a weapon.Every strike carried enough strength to shatter stone. Chad avoided every bone shattering blow, moving lightly across the field as Kuzuru pressured him. Attacking in between strikes Chad slashed back at the red-skinned terror catching his chest, slicing a line of blood across it. The two combatants broke their scuffle by leaping backwards. Kuzuru stumbled and fell to a knee. Lack of blood made his body feel heavy, two open wounds poured blood onto the soft grass.

“You know I’m not an amatuer,” Chad taunted, “right?”

“You speak highly of your own skill swordsman,” Kuzuru spit, tasting the venom in his own voice, “and yet you know not whom you speak to.”

The demon stood and spread his arms, standing like a man pinned to a cross. He laughed as more blood spilled from his body. “Don’t you get it? I’m not that weakling Renji, and I’m certainly not a human like you. I’m a force of goddamned nature and you’d do well to respect that!”

His tongue had barely formed the “t” in that before Chad was upon him. A quick stab skewered the demon’s chest, barely missing his heart. Kuzuru gasped at the realization of his predicament. Frantically he threw his arms forward and grabbed the hilt of his opponent’s blade. A wry smile cracked across the demon’s face, revealing rows of fangs. “You’re out of your league kiddo,” Kuzuru said.

A blooming flower of blades, Kuzuru’s body erupted. Hundreds of silvery-black blades peaked out from beneath the demon’s skin and stabbed outwards. His body turned into a beautiful lotus of blades, skewering Chad’s body like some sick magic trick. There was a moment of silence as the blades reached their maximum length, only several feet ahead of Kuzuru. The lifeless ragdoll that was once Chad Millwell sat affixed to the sudden wall of blades, pinned like a taxidermied bug. With a sudden schink the blades retracted into the chuckling demon, leaving nothing but a bloodsoaked body crumpled at his feet.

“They always fall for it,” Kuzuru laughed, “they always fall for that same damn trick.”

His world turned grey and he fell to his knees, “but, he did manage to hurt me pretty bad. This damned body isn’t as strong as it once was.”


Several days later the demon awoke in Ambrosia’s hospital. His body felt sore, but his wounds were nonexistent. Around his bed sat get well cards and baskets of well-wishes. The demon smirked, he was still in control. Renji-boy was so completely subsumed by his power that even days of unconsciousness were not enough to wrest control back from the demon. Above him the ghost girl floated lazily, her body jolting to awareness as she noticed him stirring.

“You’re awake!” she chirped, and floated to eye-level with the demon, “and you aren’t that dull samurai.”

“Yes, and you’re a ghost,” the demon grinned and sat up, “we can both be captain obvious now can’t we?”

“Well that’s rude, especially since I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Me?” Kuzuru asked.

“Yeah,” Wanda replied, “Renji himself is boring, but he’s got a tempest of souls inside him. One soul stood head and shoulders above the rest, and so I was determined to meet that soul, so who are you?”

“I’m Kuzuru, and don’t worry your incorporeal head that boring Renji is gone for good.” The demon snickered slightly and sat up in his bed.

“That detective left Renji his reward in that pouch there. He called it a ‘moogle magic pill’ he said if you eat it it’ll increase your strength temporarily.”

“Neat,” The demon said, swiping away that other gifts in order to grab the leather pouch that held the pill. With a yawn the demon climbed out of the hospital bed and stretched. Asides from a few sore and stiff spots he felt perfect. Glancing outside he noticed the moon high in the sky and began to walk towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Wanda asked.

The demon paused and kept his back to the ghost, “Not sure, somewhere far away from this hippy commune.”

“Well I’ll come with you,” the ghost said, “you seem to be a lot more interesting than Renji, and while I like it here I want to see what kinda trouble you’ll get into.”

“No can do,” the demon said and glanced over his shoulder, “I’ve got no interest in keeping you around. If you follow me I will annihilate you, and it won’t be pretty.”

Without another word the demon opened the door and walked into the night, leaving Ambrosia without a bartender.