RYUSATSUGA

Dawn barely touched the rooftops of Hanzo's house, but there was no peace in its light.

A thick silence, almost as dense as the fog, hung over every corner.

Kaien stood by the doorframe, eyes downcast.

Akari leaned over the futon where Shiro slept, covered in sweat, wrapped in blankets

that couldn't calm the trembling of his body. The veins beneath his skin pulsed darkly;

his nails had yet to return to their human shape.

—Is he going to be okay? —asked Mei quietly. Haru held a bowl of water, and Riku

stroked Kumo's back, who watched with lowered ears and still tails.

Hanzo knelt beside Shiro and placed a steady hand on his chest, right where he had

placed the seal.

—He's fighting —he said gravely—. But he's strong. The seal will keep it from

progressing… for now.

The children said nothing. They stayed at the door, as if knowing this was no place for

games.

Kaien clenched his fists, knuckles white.

—I didn't even see his movements…

—Me neither —added Akari—. It was as if… time stopped. And then, they were just

dead.

Hanzo looked away. His voice was low, as if speaking to ghosts.

—He's no longer the child I raised…

Memory

Green fields. White flowers dancing in the wind.

Young Raiko, no more than eight years old, ran barefoot through the meadow, laughing

with a crown of daisies on his head and a tight bouquet in his hands.

—Mom, I brought you the double-petaled ones! The ones you like the most.

A woman with long dark hair waited, sitting by the river. She smiled as if all of life fit in

her lap.

—My brave warrior —she said, hugging him—. You always think of others.

Raiko fell asleep in her lap while she told him legends about ancient heroes. He was a

strong boy, yes… but also sweet, curious, full of questions.

And then came the fire.

A giant shadow covered the sky. A dragon, red as rage, descended amid screams and

flames.

Chaos devoured the village.

Hanzo fought to save lives. But when he ran home, all he saw was ashes.

And amid the smoke…

Raiko, on his knees. Covered in blood.

Arms wrapped around what remained of his mother's body, already consumed by the

flames.

—Wake up! Mom, please! Don't go!

The dragon roared.

Raiko stood up.

And in that moment, something inside him broke.

With fresh tears on his face, he charged his katana… and tore the dragon apart in a

dance of pure fury.

Blow after blow, slash after slash, until only burning dust remained.

Hanzo arrived too late.

And when he hugged the boy…

He no longer cried.

He only stared at the sky.

Empty.

—If I had been stronger…

If that dragon had feared me…

Mom would be alive.

—You can't blame yourself for the world's hatred, Raiko —Hanzo told him.

—Then I will carry it all. The good, the bad. I will change this world with my own hands. I

promise I'll bring Mom back.

—Raiko… —Hanzo whispered, fearful—. That's not possible.

Raiko didn't answer.

He only looked toward the horizon.

—Not yet.

Days later, while the ashes still smoldered, Raiko sneaked out at night toward a

forbidden temple.

His bare feet crossed the stone threshold as if following an instinct older than himself.

In the center, under an altar covered with runes and broken seals, a sword lay silently.

Black. Alive.

Raijin no Kiba.

An inscription warned:

—Whoever bears this weapon must abandon everything.

The weapon sparkled, as if breathing in beats.

Raiko didn't hesitate. He walked toward it.

His fingers touched the hilt. The seal screeched, resisting… but did not stop him.

With a muffled cry, he pulled it out.

The sword erupted with lightning that struck the temple walls.

His small body was thrown backward by the shock.

But he didn't let go of the weapon.

When he rose, blood on his lips and burned hands, his eyes were no longer the same.

—With this, nothing will stand in my way anymore.

Hanzo watched from a distance, clutching his sword as if it were his heart.

That night, he knew he had lost his son forever.

Return to the present

Kaien broke the silence.

—What are we going to do… if that monster is your son?

Hanzo closed his eyes. When he opened them, his gaze was that of a tired warrior… but

not defeated.

—We will stop him.

—Would you kill him…?

No answer. Only a sigh.

Akari looked down, her fingers tracing the seal on her neck.

—I don't want the same thing to happen to us.

Hanzo placed both hands on her shoulders.

—Listen well…

—As long as I breathe, I will not let them hurt you. Not even him.

Shiro stirred on the futon. He murmured something.

—Dad… mom…

Kaien approached, knelt beside him, and touched his shoulder.

—You're not alone anymore.

The children gathered silently. Mei laid an extra blanket. Riku placed a wildflower on the

pillow. Haru whispered a small prayer no one had taught her.

And while they were all there, united…

Far away…

A mountaintop.

The wind cut like knives.

Clouds swirled as if avoiding getting close.

Raiko watched silently.

His Oni armor was no longer protection… but a second skin.

By his side, the Fang of the Thunder God—Raijin no Kiba—emitted a faint hum. Like a

cursed heart.

Raiko closed his eyes.

He remembered the flowers.

He remembered the laughter.

And still…

—Soon…

The wind stopped for a moment.

—Soon I will bring her back and the world will stop bleeding.

The storm began to gather behind him.

—The lives of a thousand strangers… mean nothing compared to yours.

And the sky darkened.

| Author's Note |

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– Janoshki