The sound of wind was howling at the grass.

  The combat between the clone and me was still going on.

  I can’t even see Celeste’s damn reaction due to this bandana.

  I hate being blind.

  Wham

  “Damn… I owe Miyamoto twenty copper coins.”

  “What?”

  “Come on, V, do you really think I didn’t know something was off when you fought Keyser, or, you know, the two weeks we spent in this camp? It’s pretty easy to pick up on something like a missing limb.”

  “What are the copper coins about?”

  Sling

  Ding

  My blade was starting to connect with the clone's sheathed katana more often.

  “When you were MIA for like six months or something, Miyamoto and I made a bet on which limb you would lose.

  He said eye.

  I said an arm.”

  They made a bet and never asked me if I wanted in.

  “Why?”

  “Oh, come on, V, you throw yourself into clusterfuck after clusterfuck. Sometimes anger pulls you, and other times it is whatever your beliefs are at the time.”

  “Am I really that reckless? You two talk about me losing a limb like it's me deciding to cut my hair or not.”

  “Oh, that reminds me, he owes me ten coppers for your hair turning white. And yes, V, you don’t have that great of a track record of not just doing whatever you want if your emotions are in control.”

  “Damn… Wait, why were you betting on my hair changing?”

  “We didn’t know the next time we’d see you, if ever, so we may have made a bunch of different bets.”

  “I’m thirty-two. I still have a good few years before that would start happening.”

  “You’re thirty-two!”

  “Yes!”

  With that yell, I finally felt my blade connect to the clone, cutting through him.

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  “Nice job.”

  I pulled the bandana above my right eye up a bit.

  “Thanks.”

  I saw Celeste sitting cross-legged on the rock I brought up earlier.

  I took a little bow.

  She clapped.

  “Did Miyamoto say what I should be doing when I murder his clone?”

  “No, he just told me to use the clone until you break him or you break.”

  Miyamoto is the type of teacher who would shoot you in the face and then drop you off a cliff.

  And tell you to survive with only your shoes.

  “V!” Miyamoto's voice rings throughout the woods.

  “I guess he’s back.”

  The two of us started to walk to the main camp.

  “How come you don’t cut your hair?”

  “Long hair just feels right. Why are you so determined to get on the front line?”

  “I want to feel more useful.”

  “Kid… You're doing great just as you are.”

  Celeste started to walk in front of me after I said that.

  Either she was hiding something or just wanted to get back to camp.

  Or both.

  We made it to the camp where Miyamoto, Violet, and the dog were at.

  “Miyamoto, you got the food?”

  “Yeah… we need to go somewhere.”

  “Sure.”

  Miyamoto grabbed onto my arm so I could keep up with his speed.

  “What’s going on, Miyamoto?”

  “I’ll tell you we just need to get into the forest a bit more. I don’t want anyone to hear this but you.”

  Miyamoto was pretty much pulling me along for five minutes trying to find a good place for a conversation in a forest.

  Maybe if he looks long enough, there will be a conference room.

  Well, we found a place with two stumps that stood across from each other.

  We sat down.

  I sat on the right.

  Miyamoto on the left.

  “Ok, Miyamoto, what happened?”

  “You remember the time I said there were about six people trying to kill me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, when I went to the town’s local tavern for a beer, one of those men walked right in.”

  “Huh.”

  “He was an old rival when I was with my old master. Still bitter about how much the old bastard would focus on me instead of him.”

  “Not to sound rude, but why are you telling me this?”

  “I and this rival are going to have a duel. I just wanted to tell you before I head back. Also, I was going to tell you that I want you to start swinging your sword nonstop till I get back.”

  “You couldn’t just tell me this back in camp.”

  “I didn’t want either of the kids to hear about this.”

  “You’d be surprised how good those two are at figuring things out.

  Also—what the hell?

  Just how many bets did you and Celeste make on me?”

  “She told you about those.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t remember how many we made; half the time they weren’t even real bets. We just brought up different things you would do or things that would happen to you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we were missing a comrade that brought each of us together and then disappeared.

  How would you react?

  Well, I know how you react; you go batshit and kill everything.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  A silence falls upon the two of us.

  The silence filled our mouths better than words would.

  The two of us return back to camp.

  Celeste started to cook some of the food.

  “Better not fight on an empty stomach.” I said.

  “Better not train on one either.” Miyamoto replied.

  Celeste was the only one who could cook. I could cook, but my food always has a bland mass. I always believe that food is just the stuff in it, not the tastes.

  Celeste's cooking was always nice. I mean, food is always nice, but having a comrade cook it for you is even better.

  Sounds like a thing Monkey D. Luffy would say.

  I don’t know whether or not the kids were paying much attention to Miyamoto, but he wasn’t hiding his grimness well.

  I whispered to Miyamoto while eating, “Miyamoto, whether he’s some normal guy or the devil himself, you’re going to be able to cut the bastard down.”

  We finished our meal.

  I said a quick thanks due to old tradition.

  Clean the stuff, and walk Miyamoto out.

  “Just remember, don’t fear the reaper.”

  “I never asked to talk at my funeral.”

  We chuckled.

  I grabbed his left shoulder.

  “Strike him down with the speed of the Devil and as ruthless as a demon.”

  We walk our separate ways, him back to the town…

  And I have gone back to hell.