The Boy with the Two Toned Hair (Bon X Reader)

Chapter Thirty-Two

"Hand them over, Matsuda," the man with the katana said. "They belong to me and you know it," he hissed malice thick in this voice. "Those swords were forged with he blood of an Ishida royal!" he shouted, swinging his swords in front of him angrily. "They were forged for the Ishida family by the Ishida family, damn it!" he screamed, his voice beginning to become raw.

The other man gnashed his teeth, knowing the other man was right. What was he to say? Ishida was right. These swords belonged to the other man's family, but when news of the power they held reached Matsuda ears, a thirst erupted. The swords were stolen by a thief hired by Hariuki shortly after.

The swords held power like no one could ever imagine. They were supposedly capable of containing demonic energy to be controlled and used by the wielder. This power was unthinkable. No one was sure if it was true, but the Matsuda's weren't willing to take any chances. The Matsuda and Ishida were rich and powerfully families. They had never been hostile toward each other, but were constantly attempting to gain power and land from neighboring realms.

"Don't you have anything say, Hariuki?" Ishida mocked, a sneer contorting his lips. "You know I'm right," he said. "So just hand them over and this can all be settled," he offered though he knew what the answer would be.

"I will not," Hariuki said, resolute. "I will not return these swords when I can see their power, power that will be used to destroy thousands in the hands of a man like you!" he shouted to the man across the field. Hariuki has seen how this man could be, malevolent with little to know moral in his dark soul.

Ishida's eyes grew colder still has he eyed the man across from him. A wicked grin played on his lips as he raised his head and pointed the tip of this katana at his opponent. "Then we shall fight. We shall fight and I will win," he threatened darkly. With that, he rushed forward to meet his adversary. Hariuki raised his stolen swords, effortlessly blocking the attack. With two award against one, the fight was quickly over.

Ishida lay quivering on the ground, blood gushing from the multitude of wounds on her abdomen and chest. "Th-those swords were made for my family," he gasped out, his hand clenching and unclenching at thin air. "My future bloodline," he broke off, coughing blood onto his already soaked clothing. "They will forever be after yours, like a tiger hunting his prey."

"You waste your finally breaths on meaningless words," Hariuki said. Ishida laughed like a maniac from his spot on the ground and continued to speak anyway.

"My decedents will forever be pulled by the blood that resides in those swords. They will never cease, not until wrong has been made right," he gasped. "Wrong will he made right," he whispered through his last breath. When the last breath left the man, Matsuda sighed and fell to his knees, the swords the only thing keeping him from falling all the way.

After a few moments, he stood and moved away from the corpse. When he found a partially clean area of grass, he fell to his knees once more, laying the swords in front of him after cleaning the blood from the blades. From there, he took blood from his wounds and smeared them on the blades. He muttered an incantation under his breath, and there was a flash of light.

Hariuki couldn't help her let out a yelp of surprise as he looked up and saw two figures standing in front of him. In front of him stood a girl with blue hair and a boy with dark skin and even darker hair. "You've called?" she girl said.

"You've called and have proved yourself worthy of our power. Don't waste it," the boy hissed.

"You will call us the Sister Swords," the girl instructed. "One can not be without the other." Hariuki nodded, not able to speak.

"We will serve the Matsuda family Line until the day they fall. You've kept us from the evil that resides deep in the Ishida family. They will never change," he growled. "We are yours so use us wisely," he said before they disappeared. The swords glowed bright with tunes before transforming into rings.

~~~~~~First Person Point of View~~~~~~

My hands shook as I held the letter in my hand. I wasn't sure what to think. I wasn't sure what to believe. Shaking my head, trying to collect myself, I turned back to finish the personal letter written by my great grandfather.

(Y/N), now that you've read the letter, you must make a difficult decision that ever wielder of these legendary swords have had to make. You must decided whether to keep the stolen swords and provide the possible next wielder, or you can return the stolen treasure. Know that either path will be filled with death and destruction. You must decided what you are worth sacrificing. Do not be swayed by what men have done before you. This is your decision to make and yours alone.