Page 59 of Cherry Moon

The Cherry Blade will draw much of the attention as they awaken from their slumber, a siren song to these terrible mazoku-born and their minions. Yet you remain a shadow for them, haunting their dark minds. We have limited insight into their machinations so far, though we are sure these minions will come after you while The Eight direct their attention on your brother.

Every time I read “your brother,” my insides winced.

His life was forever changed because of me, shoved in a more violent direction.

Zach Hoshino is now Sakura Chosen, our warrior on Earth.

He is one with the Cherry Blade and the powers it grants. It has made him stronger, faster, yet without the tenshi blood, he is a diluted version of what you could have been. Alas, such is fate.

You are not chosen.

You are free to live your life as you see fit.

We wish you eternal happiness.

Yours,

天使

Uh-huh. If it was up to them, I’d be Sakura Chosen, and my fiancé would be dead. They would probably never confirm it, but I knew deep in my core that if I took up that katana, G would be dead. Maybe it was paranoia, but I couldn’t shake the word price from my head.

So, by the same logic, did it mean the diluted version of this warrior was also a price to be paid? And how dare they call my brother diluted. He was amazing, an absolute powerhouse of awesomeness.

Talk about taking the coward’s route, sending me this letter. Why not meet me face-to-face to explain why they almost dropped me in a pit of grief? Hash it out with me, no secrets, plain speak.

I liked plain speak. And I wanted to believe they hadn’t tried removing G from my life to turn me into some hardened arse-kicker seeking vengeance and death for the greater good.

Maybe it would be better to stay in the dark on that one.

I sighed, folding the paper. The guilt returned, stronger this time.

Had I shafted my brother for my own selfishness? Did my rejecting this hurt him? I mean, diluted sounded so, well, harsh.

“It should’ve been me,” I said.

“What should?”

G stirred in the bed beside me, the pair of us in the same room.

Stupid guilt making me spout bollocks.

I didn’t want it.

But Zach…

He yawned, stretching, tugging on the wires and tubes attached to his arms.

“Hey, you. How are you feeling?” I shuffled to face him.

“Drowsy.” He turned his head to face me. “Smitten over you.”

“Yeah, same.” I winked at him, blushing a little.

“Confused, too,” he added.

He’d been asleep when the emergency services arrived. Passed out from all the drama. Bless him. We still needed to discuss everything.

Later. Before the letter arrived, I’d been reading up on the Hone-onna for a refresher.