He hates him.
The perfectly painted demon, who talks of death in those seductive, soft tones and spies out his pray with entrancing violet-tinted eyes. The beautiful artist who paints his macabre art on the ground in hot, crimson blood. The rival who talks of killing him in the manner of a devoted lover. The man who represents everything he works to prove wrong.
Musashi hates so much about him, but most of all, he hates the fact that their names will be linked forever.
Kojiro stands before him, blade raised, joy etched into every part of his expression. This will be the final battle, the final conversation they hold through their blades. Today one will slay the other and claim the title of 'invincible under the heavens,' but both have already secured their places in history. The rivals who clashed time and time again, their level of skill so great the only the other could provide proper competition. Competition that only one of them had ever really wanted.
"As I promised, I will give you a fabulous death," says Kojiro, eyes glittering with excitement.
Why did they ever have to meet? Musashi had only ever wanted Kojiro to leave him alone; it didn't feel like a real test, to face someone who saw the sword only as a tool of death.
"Fool, I hope you didn't plan on returning alive..." growls Musashi.
Something like a pout forms on Kojiro's face. It occurs to Musashi that the man is offended; like he wanted to see the same joy in Musashi that he felt. The painted man constantly refers to the two of them as 'soulmates.' An intimate term usually used to refer to two people devoted to one another; in love so deep that they were connected across time and space, bound by the red thread and destined to find one another no matter what tried to get between them. An odd term to use to for a sword-bearing rival in any situation. Perhaps Kojiro saw him in that manner; perhaps, to a man with a mind like his that saw the sword as the ultimate decider in life, a rival was a lover, and to kill that rival was the most powerful expression of love. If that was true, it made sense that he'd be offended, be hurt. After all, should not a lover share in the joy found when one's love was expressed?
"A childish provocation," Kojiro replies, that hurt still there, along with a hint of anger. "You sound desperate."
Too bad for him, then. Musashi only wanted rid of the devoted but corrupt soul. They might well be linked forever, but he could at least get rid of his face and his presence in this life and earn some form of peace.
"I am desperate..."
There was a pause, and it felt like, for a moment, the world had held its breath. The heavens surely assembled to watch this historical fight, one that would be told in stories for hundreds of years to come. Kojiro and Musashi's duel at Ganryujima, the best swordsmen of their age, perhaps in history, in their final duel.
Soon Musashi would pierce his 'lover' Kojiro right through the heart and commit his body to the waves.