When an opponent drew their eyes from him, Jun found it often that the battle had ended one way or another. Every time it happened, he found himself disappointed. He took a step and was gone long before the last of them turned his eyes back to what had likely once been his friends.
"Their fault, your fault,"
he thought, voicelessly condemning. "you shouldn't have been here."
As he came to a stop, the only sound he made was the soft splash of his feet meeting water again. It was like the few slow drops of rain before the storm of the survivor's sloshing-about, up to his knees in the water. Jun's eyes fell to the corpses. One of them was larger than the others. In life, it had carried a commanding weight. In its last moments, it had truly understood its error. It was the only one of them that had.
His eyes returned to the enemy left to him. This one had as much right to act on its own as its teacher had to have brought it where it did not belong in the first place. Having known the corpse as a man, Jun knew too that he ought to have been all too well informed of the danger he had put his team in when he brought them to the field. To whatever grisly credit was due to the fallen, he had not faltered even as the revelation of the ramifications of his decision had washed over him. He did not move to run. Of the others though, Jun could not say as much.
"Whether or not they wanted to, they could not. Why would it be fair for me to let you?"
The question went unasked, as Jun had as much need to give it voice as he did to chastise the foe for its mistake. An end was enough reprimand.
The rasp of his sword finding its scabbard again filled the air. Jun knew that however disoriented, afraid, and despaired the remainder was, its attention would be drawn to the sound. He did not need to meet it with bare steel to crush it. His gaze itself was ice and death.