1478 A.D., 60 Miles south of Miyako (Modern-Day Kyoto)

A sweet smell drifted over the tall grass, the scent of flowers washing over the young girl who crouched down in the sea of grass, hiding. Spring was here, and her longing to play outside superseded the orders of her parents. It was clear the sun was starting to set in west, the sky turning a bright orange, with purple clouds drifting overhead. She didn't care. Staying silent, she listened for the shouts of her older brother wading through the grass, looking for her.

"Fuyumi!"

By the sound of his voice, Fuyumi knew her brother was annoyed. This wasn't the first time her parents had sent him out after her. Every time he found her, he'd be the first to scold her, then her mother, then her father, and an endless sea of relatives explaining a proper young woman does not "run through the fields like a boy would," and "how will we find you a proper husband if you constantly ruin your robes in the mud?" But she did it nonetheless. It was better to be outside and free, than inside with her mother, endlessly learning how to cook, sew or whatever else was expected of her.

"Fuyumi! Come out! Mother has been looking for you for hours!"

She stifled a giggle, using a dirty hand to push back her dark hair. If she took a wrong step, she could accidentally break an unseen branch or step on a mouse, alerting her brother to where she was. Fuyumi knew it was better to stay still, breathe out through her nose, and hold her knees to her chest. She sat in the mud, the lower half of her dark blue robe soaking in the water and grime. Her mother was going to be furious.

She heard her older brother sigh, his wading motions getting close, stopping, and turning back. Fuyumi tilted her head, listening intently. Did he really give up on her that easily? Her grin turned to a tight frown, an odd feeling in her gut. Part of her thought she had outmaneuvered her brother, feeling triumphant, but the other part knew something was amiss. Slowly she rose up, peaking over the tall grass, her dark eyes searching for any sign of him. There was no way he could have disappeared so quickly. She turned, looking behind her to see if he was there waiting.

There was no one.

Fuyumi stood up to her full height, wiping her muddy hands on the fabric of her robe. She felt a little bad now, wondering if her brother had fallen and sprained his ankle, or maybe something worse. There had been rumors of bandits swarming the area, farmers getting robbed and beaten mercilessly. Terrible thoughts flooded her mind, her chest filled with regret. Her breathing became shaky, deciding she should run ahead and find him.

"I knew it, you little rabbit!"

Strong hands grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her back. Fuyumi screamed, nearly vomiting out of fear. But she recognized the voice, turning her head to see her older brother standing over her, a mischievous smirk on his face. "Did you really think you could hide from me, Fuyumi?" he asked, his gray eyes glimmering in the sunset. His long dark hair fell loosely along his shoulders, swaying in the breeze. He bent down, staring her in the eyes. "You can't outsmart me. I'm the one who taught you how to hide, after all!"

Fuyumi laughed in relief, holding her stomach. Small streaks of tears fell down her face, cutting through the small patches of grime on her pale face. "Kokutō!" she cried out between peals of laughter. "You scared me! I thought something bad happened to you!"

Laughing, Kokutō stood up. "To me?" he said, shaking his head. "Your big brother is capable of handling himself. It was I who was worried about you, ya little rabbit!" He feigned a serious voice, turning his smile into a stern frown. "You shouldn't be staying out this late, anyways. Mother's going to be very upset with you when we get back." He glanced at her robe, noting how soaked and dirty it was. "Oh yeah, this isn't gonna be good."

Crossing her arms, Fuyumi sighed. "I know," she said. "I just hate being cooped up in the house." She looked away from Kokutō, watching the grass sway. "I don't mind doing chores, necessarily, but once I'm done, mother always finds something tedious for me to do. I just want to go outside and get fresh air, like we did when we were little." Her eyes grew sad, shoulders sagging a little. "I miss those times, you know."

Kokutō watched his sister, seeing her sorrow. Fuyumi was growing up, but he knew she still loved going outdoors, exploring the forest. For a 13-year-old girl, she was considered too headstrong by her parents, who struggled with reigning in her free spirit. Part of him felt for her, knowing that the expectations of a growing woman and a growing man were different. It looked… stifling. He placed a hand on her head, trying to comfort her. "I'm sorry, Fuyumi," he said. In truth, he missed those times as well. They would get underfoot, their parents sending them out to the field to play, telling them to come back before dark.

"Well, maybe we should try to clean you up a bit before we go home," he said, giving her a small smile. "The river's not too far from here. We can at least get the dirt off your face, arms and legs. Maybe we'll get some of it out of your clothes… hopefully." He shrugged, knowing it wouldn't quite get it all out. But it was the least he could do to help lessen Fuyumi's punishment. He reached a hand out, waiting for her. "Come on, Fuyumi, we need to get back before dark."

Fuyumi turned to him, her eyes on his hand. Slowly, she raised a hand, taking his. "Alright." She lifted her head, her face still somber. "Let's go." They made their way through the grass, the sounds of crickets and birds filling in the silence between them.

"Fuyumi! Kokutō! You two had me worried sick! Shame on both of you!"

The sun had long since set, the country side lit by nothing more than the full moon and stars above. Kokutō waved to their mother, a casual half-smile on his face. "Sorry, mother!" he called back. "We tried to hurry! That was my fault."

Their mother stood in the doorway, her mouth pursed into a deep frown. The wrinkles around near her cheeks caught every shadow as she glared at her daughter, disappointment in her gray eyes. "Fuyumi," she said, "I have told you time and again that you should not go out into the field in your robes, especially not after a storm! Look at your clothes!" She pointed at the poorly-washed robe, drops of water falling into the dirt at Fuyumi's feet. "If you keep ruining your clothes like that, there will be no way we'll have you married off by next year!"

Fuyumi bowed, hiding her gritted teeth. "I apologize, Mother," she said. "I will wash it out tomorrow and make sure it's perfectly clean."

"You will do more than that!" Her mother wrapped her shawl tightly, fighting off the night chill. "Tomorrow, you will wash every piece of clothing in this house! Maybe every surface while you're at it! It seems you're quite bored, so I'll make sure your day is filled with tasks. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, mother." Fuyumi remained in her bow, shivering as a small breeze blew past.

Their mother stood aside, allowing them to enter the house. Fuyumi stood up, walking past her mother with her head bowed low. "And as for you, Kokutō," she said, sighing deeply, "thank you for helping us find Fuyumi again, but I wish you would talk some sense into her." She shook her head, eyes closed. "It's because of you that she became such a trickster." She chuckled a little. "Sometimes, it suits her well, as she is a sharp girl, but I worry…"

A frown on his face, Kokutō drew close to his mother. The light in the door way highlighted her face, exposing her age and stress. Times were rough, especially with the rise of violence around the village. War was in the air, which attracted the lowest of men. Farmers were no longer safe in their own fields. Forcing a smile on his face, Kokutō placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said. "I know why you worry so much." He watched Fuyumi disappear into the back rooms, her shoulders slumped. He knew exactly why their family worried. If they could get her married to one of the wealthier farmers, maybe she would be safe. "I'm worried for her, too." His voice was close to a whisper.

Caressing his face, his mother smiled as well. "Come on in," she said. "You look tired, and I have some food left over for you."

Kokutō stepped inside, taking off his shoes near the door. He saw his father at the table, eating slowly. Dark circles sat below his eyes, dropping from fatigue. Another rough day in the fields, Kokutō thought, grimacing. "Good evening, father," he said, dropping down at the opposite end of the table. His mother brought over a bowl of soup and rice, then taking her place on his left.

His father never took his eyes from his food, taking a bite of rice, chewing thoughtfully. "Good evening," he said between chewing. "I'm glad you could finally make it to the table."

The air around them turned icy, with Kokutō's eyes narrowing. He didn't like where this was going, knowing that it might lead to another argument. "I trust your day was well," he said, trying to maintain a civil conversation. He took a mouthful of soup, waiting for his father to respond.

Dark eyes rising from his dinner, his father glared at him, hands resting on the table. "Your uncle and I were doing our best to deal with our rice fields," he said slowly, his words sharp. "As you know, the last band of mercenaries that came through ruined half the fields two months ago, forcing us to salvage what was left, especially since harvest is in a month's time. But it's nice to know that my own son cares nothing about farming." Care was taken to put emphasis on the biting words. He lifted his tea cup, still glaring at Kokutō. "No, instead, my son prefers to think of himself as a swordsmith, providing those wandering maniacs with weapons."

Swallowing his food, Kokutō's brows furrowed. This is going exactly where I thought it was going. He could see his mother get uncomfortable, shifting in her place. "Your son makes good money," he said back, setting his spoon on the table. "And I do not place weapons in the hands of wandering mercenaries. They go to the samurai and other hired soldiers by the lord."

"Fool!" his father said loudly, slamming his hand on the table. Dishes jumped, clattering on the wooden surface. Soup and rice spilled, threatening to spill onto the floor. Frightened, Kokutō's mother rose to find a rag, cleaning up the mess. "The samurai were the ones who hired the wandering mercenaries in the first place! And even if they somehow weren't supplied with weapons, they'll steal them somehow! They are ruthless and take anything they need!"

"But we sell to Lord Akihito's men," Kokutō said through gritted teeth. "You and I both know he would never supply weapons to soldiers for hire."

His father gritted his teeth, lowering his head. "Even so," he said, "it is a disgrace for a farmer's son not to take on his father's farm. Once I am gone, who will I give the farm to? A swordsmith who will let it dry up and rot?"

"Give it to Fuyumi's future husband!"

"That's rich! At this rate, she won't be able to get a husband! Did you see the state of her robes?!"

"Eiji!" Kokutō's mother emerged, holding a pitcher of water. Her face now folded into a grimace, glaring down at her husband. "Do not speak about our daughter that way! Especially not so loudly! She isn't deaf, you know!"

"I hope she hears me, Haruko," Eiji proclaimed, gesturing towards the back rooms. "She needs to shape up, or she has no hope of being married. And if we have anyone to blame for her behavior, it's our swordsmith of a son!" He pointed at a now-seething Kokutō. "We should never have let them play the same way for so long! It confused Fuyumi into thinking she was one of the boys."

"Leave Fuyumi out of this, Father," Kokutō said in a low voice. "She's still a child. It's in her nature to be mischievous."

Eiji turned to Kokutō, standing up now. "Women are supposed to be docile, gentle, kind," he spat, "not ruthless, playful, or mischievous! And she's hardly a child! She's four years younger than you, close to marriage age! She should know better!"

Kokutō shot up, unsure if this would result in a physical fight. This tension had lasted for years now, with his father resenting his choice of career. They stared each other down, taking a few steps forward.

"Please, no fighting in the house," Haruko begged, placing a hand on Kokutō's chest. "No fighting at all! Can we just have a peaceful evening for once?!"

Grunting angrily, Kokutō headed towards the door. "Fine," he said. "I'm going for a walk."

"Don't go out!" Haruko called, following him. "It's too dangerous at this time of night! Kokutō, wait!" But it was too late. The door slid, closing behind him with a small slam.

"Stupid boy," Eiji muttered, sitting back down at the table. "Doesn't he realize that tradition states that fathers pass down their land and living to their sons?" He placed his head in his hands, rubbing the top of his sunburnt, balding head.

Haruko stood, staring at the doorway, her hand covering her mouth. Her heart was in her throat, fear flowing through her. "He shouldn't be out this late," she said, her voice starting to shake. "With all those mercenaries about, they might…" They sat in silence, ignoring one another for several minutes.

The sliding door in the back of the small house opened, revealing the peering eyes of Fuyumi. Once she heard her brother leave the house, she too felt afraid. Should I go after him? she thought, propping herself against the thin door. It's too dark out, and it might everything worse. He does need to calm down. But…

The sound of something small hitting the side of the house alerted Fuyumi, causing her to snap out of her daze. Normally, she'd chalk it up to an animal crawling around the walls or falling from the roof. But something in her gut told her danger was near. Slowly, she stood up, walking over to the wall and pressing her ear against the wood. She swore she heard light, fast footsteps. There was even a cough, followed by a deep snorting sound. Her heart started to beat faster.

On the other side of the house, Haruko and Eiji were making light conversation, making sure that Fuyumi couldn't hear them if she were eavesdropping. However, their conversation drew short when the sound of three loud knocks came from their front door. Haruko stood up instantly. "It's Kokutō," she said, rushing towards the door, "thank goodness!"

Eiji pushed her back lightly, his face returning to a deep scowl. "I'll answer the door," he said, "stay here."

Before Haruko could protest, Eiji pushed the door open, prepared to scold his son. The moon illuminated the dirt path that led to the door, as well as the two trees that swayed several feet away. But what he saw was not his son, but an older, drunk man, slouching against his door frame with his sword unsheathed. Blood stained is arms and the blade, flaking off in the gentle breeze. A terrible smile graced the man's face, with brown and yellow teeth bared. Behind him were a few men, baring swords as well.

"'Scuse me," the man said, leaning towards Eiji, "but my men were lookin' for some entertainment, and we couldn't help but notice your place. Would ya mind invitin' us in?"

Eiji's eyes bulged from his face, his scowl replaced by shock and terror. He felt the oxygen leave his body, his voice lost to his lungs. From around the corner, his wife walked into view, wanting to know why it was so eerily quiet up front. When her eyes landed on the men that stood outside, she froze as well, her face going pale.

"Ah, ya got yer wife with ya," the man drawled, hiccupping a little. "She looks like she'd be a good time, wouldn't ya say, old man?"

"Leave," Eiji said, his voice close to a whisper. "We'll give you whatever money we have, but please leave. We want nothing to do with you."

The man tilted his head to the side, clearly offended. He staggered forward, revealing his mangled, matted brown hair and stubble-ridden face. Small sores hid beneath the stubble, some oozing. He reeked of booze and death. "That's rude of ya," he said, his words slurring. "The least ya could do is give my men some food, maybe play with that cute daughter of yers, eh? I'm sure she wouldn't mind some company." Sounds of snickering could be heard in the background.

"Absolutely not!" Eiji shouted, using his outstretched hand to protect his wife. "Please, we don't have much money, but-!"

"WE DON'T WANT YER MONEY, OLD MAN!"

With a swift motion, the man kicked down the door out of frustration, splintering the wood and ripping the rice paper. He staggered further in, raising his sword. "Ya shoulda given us what we wanted when I asked nice the first time." Raising his other hand, he motioned for his friends to enter the house, rushing towards Eiji and Haruko.

From behind the door in the back, Fuyumi had been listening to the argument, and now that the men were in her home, she could hear her parents scream. It was a scream she could never unhear, a deafening scream that lasted for several minutes. Her mother's screams were the most chilling as they attacked her. Her father's screams didn't last for much longer, trailing into a series of gurgles, ceasing altogether. Fuyumi turned away from the door, find the small square under the tatami mat, knowing that if she stayed quiet, she could outlast them.

The men burst through the door, the sound of the broken wood hitting the floor terrifying Fuyumi as she had made it underground in the nick of time. She had to cover her mouth, stop herself from screaming. She bit her cheek, feeling blood pool in her mouth as she trembled. She could still her mother scream as the footsteps trod overhead. Seconds felt like hours as she waited for them to leave, for her mother's screams to die. Tears streamed down her trembling hands, her body sweating and shivering.

After what must have been ten minutes, she couldn't hear anything. Her mind raced, wondering if they had really left. There was no way they could have given up on finding her so easily. She looked up, seeing that whatever light had streamed in through the floor was long gone. Maybe they are…

The door to the hiding spot suddenly ripped open, a dark figure crouching over her. Fuyumi screamed, crying as the man above her chuckled. "Found ya," he taunted. "Yer like a scared little rabbit. That's cute."

"P-please!" Fuyumi begged through her tears. She could barely breathe, pushing herself against the walls of her hiding spot. "P-please, no!"

Wordlessly, the man reached down, grabbing Fuyumi by her hair, lifting her up from the hiding spot kicking and screaming. "NO PLEASE! PLEASE STOP!" He ignored her, dragging her across the floor into the main room, throwing her towards the men.

"Found her," he said, the moonlight catching his maniacal grin. "Have fun."

Blindly, Kokutō followed the path into the night, walking quickly. The anger burned inside of his, threatening to pour out. He wanted to scream, but he knew better than to do so at this time of night. Fuyumi was right. The house was stifling, for different reasons. He wanted to leave, to start out on his own and stay far away from the fears of his family, the fear that hovered over his village.

Fuyumi's face appeared in his head, as well as his mother's, remembering why he stayed. If he left, his father would have to take care of them, and harvest hadn't been good for the past two years. Money had been getting tight, and he know taking on his apprenticeship years ago would pay off. He made twice the money his father made now, so he would have thought that alone would shut the old man up.

"His damn pride," he hissed, kicking up a loose stone. "God dammit!"

Eventually, he stopped in his tracks, realizing that he'd been gone a while. The tightness in his chest subsided, and he took a deep breath. He knew he should head back, as it became clear he had no idea where he was. He turned, hoping he could find his house. He was sure he only went in a straight line. Hours must have passed by that point.

The sounds of insects and creatures moving through the wild fields were the only things that accompanied Kokutō as he made his way home. He suddenly felt exhausted, his feet starting to hurt. His eyes started to droop as well, his stride becoming a shuffle in the dirt. If he was going to go back to work bright and early tomorrow, he needed to pick up the pace.

All was well in the cool night, his mind starting to wander. He thought back to the moments when he and Fuyumi would hide in the grass, catch frogs and other creatures, build small hideouts, live life carefree, unaffected by war. He felt a lazy smile cross his face, taking a deep inhale through his nose.

The stench of fresh blood startled him, causing his drooping eyes to open wide.

Kokutō's body tensed up, stopping in his tracks. From what he could tell, he was very close to home. In fact, it must have been a good ten feet away from the house. He felt a cold drop of fear go through his body, turning his insides to ice. "S-shit," he whispered, stammering. "SHIT!"

He heard nothing, could see nothing as he cautiously made his way towards his home. The smell of blood became stronger, causing his fear to grow. From what he could see, there were several thin protrusions poking up over the roof of his house, oddly angled like poles driven poorly into the earth. The moon was covered by a cloud, obscuring his vision even further. Kokutō stopped, unable to swallow. He wanted to call out, see if anyone in the house would answer. But there was no light inside. In fact, he could just make out the broken sliding door. "No no no no no!" he begged, running towards the house. "Please no!"

As he ran towards the house, he felt something wet hit his face. He didn't stop, though, thinking it might have been water. But he froze as he stood in front of the door, realizing that it couldn't be water. There hadn't been a tree where was running, nor was it about to rain. Terrified, Kokutō lifted a hand, touching the spot on his face where the liquid fell. Moonlight soon spilled over him once more, lighting up the area around him. The liquid smelled like iron, and in the moonlight, it was dark.

Quickly, Kokutō turned, looking up at the large poles once again, seeing they were wooden spikes. At the tips were oblong shapes, varying in sizes. Some of them were unrecognizable, but when his eyes landed on one shape in particular, he knew what it was. There was a head perched on the end, with long, flowing hair buffeting in the wind.

A scream formed in the back of Kokutō's throat, his body trembling. He didn't need a light to see the head's face; he knew it was Fuyumi's, as his mother's hair was not as long. There, in front of his family's home, were the dismembered parts of his family's bodies. They seemed mixed, as not every part of each person was on display. Some were scattered on the ground. An arm draped over the broken door, just on the edges of the darkness. Trails of blood spilled out from the door and into the dirt, meaning that they must have been killed inside and dragged out mercilessly.

"FUYUMI!" Kokutō screamed at last, feeling himself fall to his knees. His vision soon filled with tears, feeling the dirt beneath his knees and hands. "FUYUMI! FUYUMI, NO!" His body became heavy, falling into the earth as he sobbed and screamed. "PLEASE, NO!" He soon began to crawl over to the spikes, resting against the blood-soaked wood, sobbing uncontrollably. His words were undiscernible, begging for his sister, for his mother or father to speak to him. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" He could barely breathe, his chest convulsing and his throat tearing apart as he screamed some more. He no longer cared if anyone or anything was attracted to the noise.

Eventually, his crying, begging and screaming ceased, leaving him in a mess beneath his family's corpses, in their pooling blood. Kokutō's eyes were open, but they were hollow, staring into places far beyond. He was in shock, unable to gain control of himself. The silence left him to his thoughts, letting him fester there in the dirt.

It was when the horizon started turning from black to blue that Kokutō finally moved. He lifted himself off the ground, using his arms to push himself up. He felt numb, his head hanging low, but he stood now, leaning to the side a bit. His clothes and skin were stained with dirt and blood, his hair a mess of twigs, blood and dust. He could barely tell if he was breathing, if his own heart was still beating.

A thought occurred to him as he stood there, staring at the horizon. "They… must be still… still nearby," he muttered. "The bastards are still… nearby." There was no doubt in his mind that the ones who killed his family were the band of mercenaries that the villagers had been speaking about. They had told him that these mercenaries would only rob travelers and farmers on the roadside, nothing more. But he knew. Their camp couldn't be too far away, and there's no way they'd still be awake. That, and their weapons would be completely unguarded. "They… must…"

Slowly, mindlessly, Kokutō walked forward, following the dirt path that led away from his home, his footsteps silent as he disappeared into the night.

"They must… pay…"

Deep in the woods, near the crackling, dying embers of a campfire, lay nine sleeping men, their bodies displayed on the forest floor. Empty bottles of sake and bowls lay next to them, littering the ground. Swords and knives rested near the men, the mercenaries, some still coated in blood. It was clear the night had been filled with merriment and drinking.

None of them twitched as the sun began to rise, golden hues spilling through the trees. And in the light, a shadow appeared, slowly moving as it began to circle them. Kokutō moved silently among the men, stepping around the men. He could make out the dark, irregular splotches of blood in their clothing, feeling his rage starting to rise. These men not only killed his family, but they celebrated their deaths, drinking and eating like kings afterwards.

Kokutō quickly bent down, grabbing a long, dark sword that rested behind one of the sleeping men. It felt just right in his hands, as if he were meant to hold it. In the mild light, he could make out the jagged end of the blade, the odd zig-zag pattern in the middle. He barely cared about the absurdity of the blade, leaning down near the sleeping man. He wanted to kill each of them as soundlessly as possible, to avoid an all-out battle.

The blade slid effortlessly over the man's trachea. Kokutō could see his eyes open, his mouth gape as he struggled to take a breath. But no noise came from his mouth as he suffocated, clawing at his neck. A rush went through Kokutō as he watched the blood flow from the man's neck, watching as the life quickly drained from his body. He stepped over the corpse, swiftly cutting the next man's throat, and the next, until he reached the last.

As he stood over the last man, Kokutō's face contorted into a crazed, lifeless mask. His eyes were wide, his jaw tensed, and his teeth pressed so tightly it looked like they could shatter. Long gone was the kind, carefree Kokutō. In a single night, he had turned from a man into a monster. Silent, steady, he knelt by the last man, holding his sword at the ready. He was prepared to take the last strike.

"Yer a quiet one, I'll give you that."

Kokutō stopped in his tracks, staring at the man. He never turned, but it was clear he was awake. There was no fear in his voice; in fact, he sounded lifeless, cold. It was clear he knew what was up, and it was no surprise to him that this would happen. "I can't tell if yer just a natural at this, kid, or you've been doing this for a long time," the man continued. "Either way, I'm impressed. Ya got what it takes to be a cold-blooded killer."

"SHUT UP!" Kokutō yelled. His voice echoed across the empty land, scaring away the morning birds. He began to breathe heavily, his rage building even more. Part of him wanted to look in the eyes of this man as he drove the sword into him, but either way he just wanted to kill him.

"Ya must be related to that little family we cut up, huh?" The man laughed a little, coughing. "That was just some drunken, harmless fun. My men get a little restless when we haven't been on assignment."

With an angry roar, Kokutō turned the man over, facing him. He pressed the tip of the sword into his throat, staring deep into his eyes. It was clear that this man had been out in the wild for a long time. His face was weathered, deep lines creasing his face. Stubble popped out from his cheeks, with countless ingrown hairs and scars hiding beneath. A small smirk crossed his face as he stared back up at Kokutō. He was clearly enjoying his last moments. "No hard feelin's."

"NO HARD FEELINGS?!" Kokutō's voice strained, his eyes nearly bulging from their sockets. "You not only killed my family, but you cut them to bits and stuck them up on spikes! This goes way beyond some drunken, harmless fun!" He struggled to breathe, the tip of the sword digging in deeper. "My family was innocent, they were farmers! HOW COULD YOU? WAS ROBBING THEM NOT ENOUGH?!"

The man laughed, his voice loud, raucous. This further infuriated Kokuto, ready to cut his throat. "Aw, kid," the man mocked, "clearly you don't understand the need some wanderin' men have. We have plenty of needs we need fixin'. I'm sorry your family just so happened to be there in the wrong place, at the wrong time." He shrugged, hands splayed outwards. "'Sides, people die all the time. Yer little family ain't special."

Before Kokutō could plunged the sword into the man's throat, the man's arm shot out, pushing Kokutō's face towards the still-hot coals. Kokutō's screams echoed, his flesh sizzling as he struggled against the mercenary. The entire right side of his face was burning, even his arm was submerged in the coals. The pain fueled his rage even further, determined to kill this man.

With all his might, he shoved his elbow into the man's chest, knocking the wind out of him. Despite the pain, Kokutō grabbed the sword again with his mutilated hand, his flesh still curdling as he moved to stab the man in the neck. Instinctively, the mercenary kicked away Kokuto's arm, hearing him howl in pain as he crawled away, looking for his own sword. He didn't make it very far, the cold steel of Kokuto's blade plunging through his back. If nothing else, the mercenary was surprised by Kokuto's quick recovery from the pain.

The mercenary squirmed for a moment, turning his head to face Kokutō. "G…ood… jo…b, kid," he gargled, his head falling to the side. His smile remained on his face, his eyes wide open.

Kokutō spat on him, heaving. "Fuck… you!"

As the sun rose, Kokutō felt the right side of his body start to stiffen. Looking down, he noticed his chest was affected as well, the skin puckering and squelching. His mind was screaming, begging for relief. Clumps of hair fell from his now-mutilated head, turning into charred strands. He was ready to pass out.

But he knew he couldn't. His soul wasn't satisfied with this ending. He had thought that killing the men who destroyed his family – who mercilessly killed Fuyumi – would make him feel better. It felt the opposite. The anguish, the bitterness, the loneliness began to eat away at him, leaving him feel empty, like an abyss was forming in his chest. That hurt considerably worse than the seared flesh, his chest tightening as he sat there, covered in blood.

No, the world owed him more. The lives of these men were not nearly enough to pay for what they did. More blood needed to be spilled. Others needed to know what it was like to lose someone like Fuyumi. Her smile kept playing back in his mind, on constant rewind, the relief and happiness in her eyes as she turned back to see him yesterday in the field.

"I'm so… so sorry," Kokutō wept, his back bent as he knelt in the dirt. His head nearly touched the ground as bitter tears streamed down his face. "I'm so sorry, Fuyumi…"

Eventually he stood back up again, pulling his sword from the man's back, carrying it off with him into the early morning. He didn't have a plan, nor a direction. There was no future anymore. All that he had left was his pain, anger, guilt. He could no longer rest, his body slowly sauntering away from the bodies that lay beneath the trees, silent.

There was nothing left for him to live for but the burning hatred.

A/N: It's here! I have been so excited to share this chapter with all of you for the longest time and now we can start a new story! Even on my break, I've been working on the first few chapters here and there, making sure they were ready to go. It's been hard not to just press "publish," so this was a test of patience! I hope you guys are as excited as I am, because we are in for one... hell of a good time ;) Okay no more dumb puns, see you soon!