A Ghost Joined The Party (2)

The biggest reason I couldn’t honestly be happy.

It was this guy.

The samurai muttering behind me nonstop.

“I told you already, did I not? I am but a wandering samurai.”

“That’s not the point! Why are you acting like my stand or something?!”

“A stand? What might that be?”

“I mean you’re basically my guardian spirit hanging behind me!”

I blurted out a reference from some manga without thinking—but honestly, that was exactly the situation.

After the battle, when my body was taken over by the samurai, control returned to me almost immediately.

That part was fine.

The problem was—

The samurai was now floating behind me in a semi-transparent, ghost-like state.

Apparently, only I could see him, and only I could hear his voice.

“In truth, I am a ghost.”

“S-seriously…?”

“Indeed. That blade you carry—during my life, it was my beloved sword.”

“This thing…?”

The cursed blade still hanging at my waist.

So this ghost had been sealed inside it.

A ghost possessing a sword.

That really was a cursed blade.

“Most assuredly, an authentic cursed blade.”

“—Hey! Wait! Can you read my mind or something?!”

“I can, yes. My soul currently resides within your body. As such, I understand your emotions.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me…”

So everything I think gets transmitted to him?

What kind of humiliating setup is this?!

“And that is not all. I have also taken a brief look at the memories dwelling within you.”

“Huh?”

Memories…?

Hey, wait—don’t tell me—

“Thanks to that, I understand the situation you are in, as well as knowledge of this world. For that, I am grateful.”

“DO YOU EVEN KNOW THE WORD ‘PRIVACY’?!”

“Of course I do. It was among the words and concepts stored in your memories, so I have already learned it. Though difficult matters still elude me.”

“Damn it all!”

This was the worst.

Not only were my emotions leaking—my entire past was an open book?!

That’s a straight-up violation of privacy!

Where do you even file a complaint for this?!

Court? Was there even a court in this world?!

“Even if there were, it would be meaningless. I am but a spirit now—unseen and unheard by all but you. If you spoke of me, you would merely be thought a madman.”

“Ugh…”

I was completely screwed.

The fact that only I could perceive him had its advantages, sure—but it also meant I couldn’t consult anyone.

You’re telling me I have to deal with this catastrophic problem alone?

No way. Absolutely impossible.

“Anyway, if you know that much, shouldn’t you at least know who you are?”

“That, I do not know.”

“What? Why not?”

“All I know is this: that sword was my beloved blade. That I was a samurai. And the swordsmanship carved into my very being.”

The samurai gripped his right arm tightly with his left hand.

His frustration came through clearly.

Just like my emotions flowed into him, his emotions flowed into me.

It felt… strange.

Like there was a gaping hole in my chest.

“You…”

“My apologies. I myself do not understand why I am as I am. I only know that I had regrets—otherwise, I would never have become a cursed blade.”

“Regrets… about what?”

“I do not know.”

He smiled sadly.

Loneliness and emptiness seeped out of that invisible hole in his heart.

After sharing emotions like that, how was I supposed to stay angry?

“Well… you did save us. So, thanks.”

“No thanks are necessary. I was surprised as well. You were the first— the first to awaken my soul and allow possession.”

“Really? Why me?”

“If I were to guess, it is a matter of compatibility between our souls.”

“Compatibility…”

Being perfectly compatible with a guy is not something that makes me happy.

“Please do not say such lonely things. Thanks to you, I can express my will once more. For the first time in ages, I can feel the world again. I am grateful.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

So in the end, we still knew nothing.

Wasn’t there any hint?

Anything that could point to who he really was…?

Then I remembered the fight with Barbatos.

“Tsubame Gaeshi…”

“Hmm? Is there something about my sword technique?”

“Tsubame Gaeshi—that’s Sasaki Kojiro’s famous move, isn’t it?!”

“Sasaki… Kojiro?”

Ganryu. Sasaki Kojiro.

The legendary swordsman who wielded the long blade known as the Monohoshizao, whose duel with Miyamoto Musashi is still famous today.

His signature technique—

Tsubame Gaeshi.

A secret art created to cut down swallows mid-flight.

All I’d barely seen was that multiple slashes had been delivered almost simultaneously.

If that really was Tsubame Gaeshi—

Then this guy would be Sasaki Kojiro himself.

A character straight out of games and manga.

If that were true, my hype would skyrocket.

“Hm… the name sounds faintly familiar… but it is surely not I.”

“W-why not?!”

“A hunch.”

“A hunch? That’s way too vague!”

“It is not vague. Though I do not know who I am, I know that ‘Sasaki Kojiro’ is not my name.”

He stated it firmly.

And because I could feel his emotions, I knew he meant it.

If he was this certain, then he really wasn’t Kojiro.

“I guess… yeah.”

If he were Kojiro, he’d be using something like the Monohoshizao.

I didn’t know the real history, but at least this guy’s blade was too short to be called that.

“So… a different person, huh…”

Honestly, that was disappointing.

“Indeed. I apologize for failing to meet your expectations. However, lacking a name is inconvenient! Until I remember, I shall call myself Kojiro.”

“Do whatever you want.”

A fake Hero and a fake Sasaki Kojiro.

What kind of joke was this?

“By the way… your name sounds familiar.”

“Huh?”

“Miyamoto… Soji… yes. In life, I believe I once met a swordsman with a similar name.”

“That’s—”

Miyamoto Musashi?!

If that was true, then maybe after all—

“No. It is the given name that stirs my memory, not the family name.”

“Soji?”

“Indeed. Soji… Soji… It even feels nostalgic.”

Kojiro’s emotions flowed into me.

My name came from a certain swordsman of the Bakumatsu era—or so my father once told me.

Okita Soji.

Captain of the First Unit of the Shinsengumi.

A monstrous swordsman of the late Edo period.

My father liked the Shinsengumi, and among them, Okita Soji was his favorite—so he named me after him.

Thanks to that, my name ended up sounding like a mash-up of swordsmen from completely different eras: Miyamoto Soji.

I’d even been scouted for kendo clubs just because of my name.

What a pain.

“Okita… Okita Soji! I believe I know that name!”

Reading my thoughts, Kojiro looked like he’d had a revelation.

Okita Soji was a Bakumatsu-era samurai.

If he knew that name, then—

“Were you also from the Bakumatsu era?”

“Perhaps.”

If so, then he was definitely not Sasaki Kojiro.

So who the hell was he?

If he knew Okita Soji, maybe he was a member of the Shinsengumi?

“…No. I do not know.”

Great.

Still no clue.