death or life

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The resistance camp, much like any military camp of young ragtag recruits, is noisy at best and a downright ruckus at worst. Gorou does not typically mind; even in his short time commanding the forces, he has learned to tune out the chatter. He has also learned to tune into sounds of importance, and this is how he hears of the newcomer's arrival.

There is a larger crowd than usual gathered near the main gates of their camp, and rumbling footsteps tell him that a few soldiers are jogging up the path towards his tent, no doubt to alert him to whatever caused the commotion in the first place. Gorou finishes stringing his bow, giving the string an experimental tug and nodding in satisfaction, and then he stands up, stretches, and exits his tent.

As he marches down the main path, the soldiers whose footsteps he'd been listening to very nearly crash into him, a scene that becomes a festival of apologies.

"It's fine," he says, brushing agitated dust off his clothing. "What's the hurry about?"

The first man to speak is out of breath—he hadn't arrived even two weeks ago, and Gorou recognizes him as one of the ones who struggles during training exercises.

"There's a new—a new person in camp. A samurai."

Gorou frowns. Wandering samurai are most often their enemies, not to mention those employed by the shogunate. Perhaps the commotion at the gates was an effort to keep him out.

The other man, also having caught his breath, nods emphatically and adds, "A vision holder!"

This catches Gorou's attention, his ears perking up slightly as he strains to hear the sounds around him. The voices at the gates don't seem panicked, so perhaps there is no threat after all.

The first man shoves the second gently. "He's not a vision user."

"Yes he is! I saw it tied to his back," protests the second.

"Nah, that's a trick of the light. Or... maybe he had one, but it got taken by the Raiden Shogun! I've only ever seen such a blank stare from people who lost their visions."

Gorou holds up a hand, silencing the two. "Let's go and find out," he resolves.

Though the resistance is largely cut off from the rest of Inazuma, there are those who maintain their positions in society to act as spies and informants, offering to brave danger in order to keep the resistance afloat. Their recent whispers happened to reach Gorou's ears this morning, telling tales of a dangerous duel and a divine punishment. This much is surely true; no one could have missed the crackle of condensed lightning on the horizon. But there were also rumors of an interruption: a man who came and stole away the vision of the deceased. They updated the list of known fugitives, and the most recent addition is said to be clad in the color of a maple leaf.

To this end, Gorou cocks up an eyebrow as the visitor comes into view, dressed very much the same as the description.

"Our newest fugitive, I take it?" Gorou asks. The crowd parts, clearing the line of sight between him and the visitor.

The visitor, a young man around Gorou's own age, raises his head slowly, taking several seconds to meet his eyes. Per his soldier's words, the man's expression is nearly void, a lonely and empty gaze that nearly breaks Gorou's authoritative air. But Gorou has had the misfortune of meeting more than a few ex-vision holders, and he can tell from the slight rush of the man's breaths that this is not the same.

Indeed, when Gorou turns his gaze to the man's hand, he finds bloodstained fingers gripping the dull shell of a vision.

The man does not reply, so Gorou speaks again. "You came to seek shelter, right? We can give that to you, but it will be tumultuous. We are constantly in danger, often moving our camp, and everyone must participate in our efforts. If this isn't for you, we can do our best to help with arrangements to escape overseas, but that may be even more dangerous."

There are several moments where neither speaks, though the soldiers murmur around them.

"So blunt..."

"Ah, he just arrived, and General Gorou is already..."

"Isn't that a vision, though..?"

Finally, the newcomer speaks. His voice, though soft, lacks no resolve. "My name is Kaedehara Kazuha, and I am here to fight," he says.

The sword at his hip catches Gorou's eye. A fighting instinct should be expected from a samurai, he supposes. He nods. "Good. Do you know what you're fighting for?"

Kazuha's eyebrows furrow slightly, his head tilting. "Are we not all fighting for the same thing? Those who believe in ending the Vision Hunt Decree do not have the luxury of fighting for much else."

Gorou gestures to the vision in his hand. "I thought you might want to fight for vengeance—or justice, whichever you prefer to call it."

He hears Kazuha's breath catch, just for a moment as he looks down and clenches the vision harder. Then, he replies, "I believe that ending the Vision Hunt Decree is the only form of justice that will suffice."

"Are you willing to die for what you believe in?" Gorou asks.

The soldiers begin their murmurs again.

"Isn't this too much..."

"It's true, though..."

"The resistance is dangerous..."

Kazuha meets his gaze once more and says, "On the contrary: I am willing to live for it."

Gorou tries and fails to bite back a satisfied smile. He glances over at a soldier, jerking his head back towards their newcomer. "Show him around," he orders.

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