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Nick and Selena were having breakfast in the hotel. Selena was reading a Japanese newspaper.
"There's a special exhibition of Muramasa swords at the Tokyo national Museum this week," she said. "I'd like to see that."
"Who was Muramasa?"
"He was another famous sword smith. Unlike Masamune, his swords aren't considered national treasures. But they are extremely well known and very popular in pop culture. There's even a video game built around a Muramasa sword."
"There seems to be a national obsession with these weapons."
"I suppose you could say that. Japan's feudal past makes our wild west look like Sesame Street. There are lots of famous samurai, and all of them had swords. Muramasa's swords are considered cursed. That makes them even more interesting."
"Cursed? Why?"
"Many famous samurai died because of them. There's a myth that when one of Muramasa's swords is drawn, it has to taste blood before it can be put back in the scabbard. If it has to, it will turn on its owner to draw blood. A lot of people take the story seriously."
"Great. Demon swords. And you want to go look at them?"
"It will be fun," Selena said.
The Tokyo National Museum was one of the great art museums in the world. It consisted of five separate buildings located in a sprawling park in the middle of Tokyo. The swords were being displayed in the Honkan building, which was dedicated solely to Japanese art. The National Treasure Gallery was in the Honkan building.
They got to the museum shortly after it had opened for the day. It was not yet crowded by Japanese standards, but there were still hundreds of people milling about the exhibition halls. The Muramasa swords were being displayed on the second floor. There were perhaps a dozen swords being exhibited.
"Muramasa made a lot of swords," Selena said. "His blades have a distinctive style to them."
They paused in front of a glass cabinet. The Muramasa sword rested on a rack draped with a piece of gray silk. The cutting-edge was turned upward. The ancient steel gleamed under the light. A shadowy, wavelike pattern danced along the edge, forged within the steel.
"That is one nasty looking weapon," Nick said.
"As a work of art, it's beautiful," Selena said. "Look at the curve. Look at the proportions. I'll bet that blade is as sharp as the day it was finished."
As he looked at the sword, Nick saw a reflection in the glass. A man was coming up behind them. Something about the way he moved toward them set off warning bells. In the glass, Nick saw him reach inside his jacket and draw a pistol.
"Down!"
He pushed Selena as the gun fired. The glass cabinet shattered. An alarm started blaring. People began screaming.
Something made Selena reach into the cabinet and take the Muramasa sword from the rack. She gripped the hilt in two hands and turned toward the attacker. He fired again and missed. She closed on him with a guttural cry and brought the sword down in a sweeping arc. It sliced through his shoulder, then down through his chest and abdomen, as if cutting through butter.
Blood sprayed across the room. Selena pulled the sword out. The man stood for a second, unsure what had happened. The sword had cleaved his arm and shoulder from his body and opened up his chest. Selena could see daylight through the wound.
He toppled to the floor.
"Holy shit," Nick said.
Selena looked down at the sword in her hand. Blood dripped from the blade. She looked up at Nick.
"What have I done?" she said.