Chapter 33: Shadows and Cybernetics

Arriving at the Nomura household, Yoko finally reunited with her father after several days apart, during which he had been away on a business trip. "Otōsan, you're finally back," Yoko exclaimed, her voice filled with relief and joy as she saw her father.

In the heart of the house, Kenjiro Nomura sat meditating in the traditional seiza position on a tatami mat, exuding an aura of disciplined calm typical of a samurai. His presence was commanding yet serene, embodying a blend of ancient tradition and contemporary sophistication. Kenjiro was dressed in a red kimono cardigan, symbolizing strength and valor, over a simple black t-shirt that outlined his sturdy build, paired with black battle robe pants that struck a perfect balance between elegance and practicality. His meticulously groomed anchor beard framed a face that carried the wisdom of his years and the subtle marks of life's complexities.

As he opened his eyes, they settled on Yoko and her friends: Jake, Luna, Carter, and Akane, who seemed to carry the vibrancy of their recent adventures. "Come to me, my baby girl," he said warmly, breaking the room's stillness. "I hope everything is good with school."

Yoko crossed the room with swift, eager steps and threw her arms around her father, her embrace conveying the depth of her affection and the overwhelming relief at his safe return. Kenjiro held his daughter tightly for a moment, then his gaze shifted over her shoulder, locking eyes with Jake.

"Jake, how are you? You have grown so much, yet I would recognize you anywhere," Kenjiro remarked with a warm, yet somewhat scrutinizing look. It had been years since their last meeting, and the boy had matured into a young man.

"Uncle Nomura, it's been a while," Jake responded, his voice carrying a mix of respect and familiarity. "My father sends his regards to you."

"I hope Fumio and Elizabeth are enjoying their normal life in the U.S.," Kenjiro commented, a slight hint of longing in his tone. He then shifted his focus slightly, adding, "Fumio has informed me that you're interested in learning more about the seven swords. You certainly brought an impressive entourage," he observed, nodding towards Carter, Akane, and Luna.

"Otōsan, don't be rude," Yoko chided gently, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Let me introduce them properly. This is Carter, Luna, and Akane." The group exchanged polite greetings with Kenjiro, each offering a respectful nod or a smile in his direction.

Luna stepped forward confidently, her voice clear and purposeful. "Hi, Mr. Kenjiro, my name is Luna. I came from the future where an overlord has taken control of the seven swords. I wish to find the swords and prevent them from falling into the hands of this overlord."

Kenjiro regarded Luna with a calm, unflinching demeanor, his expression composed and unreadable. He didn't seem surprised by her claim of coming from the future—a testament to the many strange and extraordinary things he had encountered in his life. His eyes, sharp and discerning, seemed to pierce through the veils of time as he considered her words, weighing their truth against his own vast experiences.

"Intriguing," Kenjiro finally said, his voice low and even as he pondered the group's request. "Fumio has told me about your interest in the whereabouts of the seven swords," he continued, his gaze sweeping across the young faces arrayed before him. "He also must have mentioned that the person does not choose the sword; rather, the sword chooses its master. I would be hesitant to divulge their locations, as I wish to prevent any danger that might befall you young adventurers."

Luna stepped forward, her expression one of earnest appeal. "Mr. Nomura, as I explained, in my future, the overlord indeed possesses the seven swords, using them to enforce stifling control over everyone. I plead with you, please give us some clues about their whereabouts!" Her voice was filled with a mix of exclamation and pleading, hoping to soften Kenjiro's stance on withholding information.

Jake, feeling the weight of the moment, spoke up with equal fervor. "Uncle Nomura, I believe you can trust us with the whereabouts of the seven swords." His voice carried the assurance of one who had been granted a significant responsibility. "My parents have given me their blessing to come to you and inquire about the swords. They trust in me—and in my friends—to help Luna on her mission."

He reached for the Sword of Flames, drawing it from its sheath and holding it out for Kenjiro to see. The blade gleamed with an inner light, its mystical flames flickering gently along the edge, a testament to its power and legacy. "Look, my dad has let me inherit the Sword of Flame; he believes we are ready," Jake declared, his words underlined by the solemnity of his gesture.

Kenjiro's eyes fixed on the Sword of Flames, and a slow nod acknowledged Jake's words. The old warrior's face remained impassive, but his eyes betrayed a spark of recognition for the resolve and maturity in these young souls. Here before him stood the next generation, ready to face the challenges that he and his peers had once grappled with. This realization seemed to weigh heavily on him, as he considered his next words carefully.

"Your courage and the trust your parents place in you and your friends is clear," Kenjiro finally responded. His voice was reflective, touched with a hint of solemnity as he continued, "However, knowing the locations of the swords is not merely about being ready to wield them. It involves understanding the deeper responsibility they entail and the broader consequences their gathering might provoke."

Kenjiro allowed a moment of silence to envelop the room, letting his words resonate deeply with his young audience. "Fumio wanted a normal life, and now he is passing that responsibility to you," he continued thoughtfully. "The path to the swords is fraught with peril, and if you are to undertake this journey, you must be prepared in ways that go far beyond mere combat."

His gaze then shifted, becoming piercing and intense. "Has anyone seen the Sword of Flame in action?" he asked abruptly, scanning their faces for an answer.

"I used the sword against a Yakuza on the way back here," Jake confessed, his voice steady despite the weight of his admission. At this, Kenjiro's demeanor shifted dramatically, the lines of his face hardening as a grave seriousness took hold. The revelation that the sword had been revealed in public—and to a Yakuza no less—was deeply troubling.

"Did he say his name?" Kenjiro's voice was now a sharp edge, cutting through the tension in the room.

"He told us his name is Takeshi Ono," Jake replied, sensing the growing concern in his uncle's voice.

At the mention of the name, Kenjiro abruptly stood from his seiza position, his body coiling into a ready combat stance as if triggered by instinct. "There's no need to hide anymore, I know you are here, Hiroshi! They are just teenagers," he exclaimed loudly, his voice booming through the quietude of the household.

Everyone in the room was taken aback by Kenjiro's sudden outburst and shift in posture. The atmosphere thickened with anticipation and a hint of fear as they realized that more was at play than they had known. Kenjiro's acute awareness and the unspoken threats lurking just beneath the surface of their quest had suddenly become palpably real, leaving the group in a state of heightened alertness, unsure of what was about to unfold.

Suddenly, the air crackled with electricity as Electro Shurikens, each one humming with charged energy, were hurled in Kenjiro's direction. Without hesitation, Kenjiro invoked the Code of the Protector, a defensive technique that allowed him to deflect the shurikens effectively, ensuring none would harm the teenagers around him. "You can show yourself now, Hiroshi. There's no point in hiding," Kenjiro called out firmly, his voice echoing through the room.

Jake, Yoko, Carter, Luna, and Akane instinctively formed a circle, standing back to back as they scanned the room cautiously, each pair of eyes searching for a sign of the hidden adversary.

From the shadows, a figure materialized as if woven from the darkness itself. Hiroshi Saito stepped forward, his presence marking a stark contrast between the ancient and the modern. At about 60 years old, Hiroshi's physique was a testament to a life dedicated to martial and technological mastery. His short, white hair and neatly trimmed beard framed a face marked by experience and age, but it was his cybernetic enhancements that caught the eye—a shiny black that covered and possibly replaced the left side of his face, including an eye that glowed with a subtle red hue. This cybernetic eye, with its precision-crafted components, added an intimidating edge to his already formidable appearance.

Hiroshi was clad in a traditional black Shinobi Shozoku, the garb of a ninja, which granted him fluidity and stealth in movement. Over this, parts of his attire were augmented with cybernetic elements that seamlessly integrated with his body, enhancing his physical capabilities. The fusion of old and new was epitomized by the plasma saber hanging at his side—a blade that combined the lethal grace of a katana with the cutting-edge technology of plasma energy.

As Hiroshi stepped fully into the light, the plasma saber at his side hummed softly, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. His posture was relaxed yet unmistakably ready for combat, a warrior balanced perfectly between the worlds of shadow and substance, his every movement calculated and precise. The electrically imbued shurikens that he had thrown were just a hint of his capabilities.