Lady Yanami acted reasonably nice around Taiyo, all things considered. She gave him a few outfits to cycle through, had someone bring him food and water whenever he asked. She even got him a larger room so he could walk around without bumping into anything.


    Taiyo only had the voices to keep him company, but all they did was spout threats—they couldn’t act on them unless he was given a knife, and the Kuro guards were very careful to keep any and all sharp things away from him. He tried to figure out a way to control the voices so he didn’t have to worry about the voices making due on their mumblings.


    His stomach turned every time he even thought about killing again. He only managed because he tried to convince himself it was the voices, and not him.


    At least Seiko acknowledged that she killed, the voices murmured.


    He couldn’t clearly hear Tsujihara Seiko’s response, only that she gave one and the voices quieted down shortly after. She hasn’t been as clear recently.


    Taiyo laid on the floor, watching the ceiling as the sun going in and out of clouds cast different shadows. One week passed since he came here. He wondered if he would stop counting eventually.


    Someone lightly knocked on the door. He scrambled to get upright as it slowly opened to reveal Lady Yanami.


    He half-bowed out of respect. It made her ears twitch every time.


    “It’s time for your first ‘test,’” Lady Yanami announced. “Just be warned that the king and both of his wives will be there to watch. I managed to convince them to use training dummies instead of real opponents.”


    “Thank you.” She understood his reluctance and guilt over killing—either that, or she didn’t want to deal with a few unrelated casualties and explain that soldiers were killed in a training session by a teenager.


    Taiyo stood up, brushed himself off, then met Lady Yanami at the door. The guards around her took out some rope and tied his arms around his back, but he could probably break out of them if he wanted to. No one seemed to have any knives, keeping the voices at a level that he could ignore.


    The halls of Kuro’s castle were almost mirrored to Gin’s, from what little he’s seen. Portraits of former rulers and tapestries of their exploits were hung, without any sign of personal trinkets aside from small arrangements by a few bedroom doors. Sheaths hung on the wall without any blade inside them, although he couldn’t tell if it was to keep him away from sharp objects or if they were always unoccupied.


    Lady Yanami led them to the area behind the castle—gardens back home, but a large training area here. It even put the one near Hiroki’s fort to shame.


    The king already stood there, arms crossed and scowling, one woman on either side of him; the one on the left glared at the other, who kept her eyes on the sky or the ground while smirking. They must be the king’s wives.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    “You’re in a worse mood than I last saw you,” Lady Yanami noted dully.


    “Don’t test me, kitsune,” the king muttered back. He gestured towards the guards, who untied Taiyo’s hands and shoved him towards the dirt arena. “I need to know if the monster still works or not.”


    Lady Yanami sighed. “...Of course. Kioshi?”


    She named him ‘Kioshi’ after two days of failed attempts to get his real one; he understood it referred to him and nodded.


    “Yes, ma’am?”


    “Take that dagger in the center and do what you can against the training dummies.”


    “The punishment for doing anything but is a withdrawal of your privileges,” the king added darkly. “I don’t have the time nor space for another weakling. Prove that Gin is capable of more than the illusion of strength.”


    Taiyo murmured some agreement and did as instructed. A dull dagger waited for him in the middle of the arena; picking it up gave the voices a little more sway over his movements, but he tried to control it as he turned towards his targets.


    He lunged, coming at the closest one and jabbing its chest at an angle. The force pushed it into the ground, prompting half-genuine clapping from one of the king’s wives.


    He moved to the second, quickly switching the dagger to a backhand position and swiping at the training dummy’s shoulder. The voices guided him—he did what he could to keep them from doing anything more than suggest what to do next. He didn’t know whether or not the distinction was crossed.


    For the third and last, he moved the dagger back to standard and dug it low into the training dummy’s stomach. He blinked—or maybe he blacked out for a second—and when he next opened his eyes again he stood on top of it, stabbing it three times before forcing himself away.


    He stood up and stared at the fluff thrown around, a few stray pieces stuck to the jagged edges of the dagger. Taiyo jumped when the king spoke.


    “Good. You’re still a little murderer after all.”


    He turned towards the king as the latter continued with a sick grin.


    “We need a monster like you to destroy Gin and the north when they come asking for ‘peace.’”


    Lady Yanami’s tail flicked and she scowled before Taiyo had a chance to question him.


    “I’m not factoring a teenager into my battle plans,” she hissed.


    “Then he’ll just be thrown in there with no backup or regard for safety,” the king replied with a shrug. “The only conscience that will be affected if he dies is yours, Lady Yanami. Keep that in mind.”


    He half-heartedly waved some kind of goodbye and left, both of his wives trailing after him. Taiyo sat the dagger back down on the ground as Lady Yanami went back towards him with the rope, apparently the bravest of the three remaining.


    She went behind him and loosely wrapped the rope around his wrists again. Taiyo bit his lip for a few seconds until he decided to voice a question.


    “Gin and the north? Not just one?”


    Lady Yanami sighed. “There are rumors of an alliance. It makes sense tactically—Gin doesn’t have a large army, and the north just happens to have lost an important figure due to Shunji’s nonsense recently—but he can’t seem to understand his own hubris brought him here. There was a reason we negotiated peace with the north instead of fighting them.”


    “It wouldn’t have ended well,” Taiyo guessed.


    “Let’s just say that your little murder habit might determine whether or not we win. Keep that in mind.”


    She pulled away, brushed herself off, then walked away. The two guards escorted Taiyo back to his room, leaving him alone for the rest of the day until someone brought dinner.


    On one hand, at least he knew that Gin might have some support. On the other, it meant the prospective death toll just increased dramatically.