Within seconds the whole roof was engulfed in a vicious flame. It crackled madly, as though mocking him. He felt as though a stake had been driven through him at the sight.
A deep worry radiated out from his heart and reflected back off his ribs. He began to sweat fiercely and breathe heavily as he worked his brain to the fullest.
'Should I give up my position, and call out to my family, warning them of the fire?'
Such was his line of thought, but the problem was: what then? The only advantage he held over the attackers was the fact that he was hidden, and if he gave himself away he feared there was nothing he and his family would be able to do.
He saw Kyougoku pick out two men.
"Go round the front, and capture anyone trying to escape. No killing. I want to make this fucker suffer."
The men nodded obediently, one holding a bludgeon, and the other a spear, and they quickly ran around to the front of the house.
It was then that Gengyo made his decision. He had to act fast, before his family were captured. He had stated that he would not kill them - not straight away - but that did not mean that he could afford to behave leisurely.
Of course, he could not be certain, and the stress of such a gamble caused him to clench his fists so tightly that his fingernails drew blood. He hated the thought of playing with his family's lives, and an intense fear as to the consequences of his misjudgement burned inside him.
A few seconds passed, and Kyougoku continued to watch the flames with a maniacal smile on his face. Taking in deep breaths and emitting a pleasured sigh, as though he found a deep sense of satisfaction in the entire thing.
It made Gengyo sick to the stomach to see such madness, and so close to him. A dangerous madness that was putting the lives of his entire family at risk.
He cursed himself for not noticing such insanity sooner, and not predicting the reaction. He had contented himself in the knowledge that he had the backing of the master. He had not anticipated that there was someone mad enough to even go against the landholder, Niwa-san.
"OYYYYYYY MIURAAAAA. YOUR HOUSE IS ON FIREEEE, BETTER WAKE UP, EH?"
Those with Kyougoku continued to make noise, adding to the clamour.
Gengyo turned on his heel, and sprinted back towards the shore, so that he might retreive his weapon, and face them. As he was now - unarmed - he did not stand a chance.
By now, voices could be heard from the inside – screams more like. He could not make out distinct words or people above the roaring flames, but he could hear all too well the fear that those voices held.
They likely understood the situation, just from the shouts, and were panicked as to where they should flee. The most pitiable part was that there was nowhere. Only into the arms of their aggressors.
The backdoor was kicked through – it was such a mess from the flames, that no other method was present. A cloud of smoke swam out into the yard, and Kyougoku shielded his eyes from the attacks of such a cloud.
In the smoke, two figures could be seen. A tall man supporting another by his side.
It was obvious who the two men were. But neither of them could feel relief upon escaping the fire, for Kyougoku's men were already moving forward, and their eyes were all but closed, protecting them from the smoke.
Coughing fiercely, and stumbling in their blindness like moles, they were easily beaten down. The first man attacked with the blunt head of his axe, driving it into Masaatsu's stomach, instantly downing him.
He groaned loudly as he tried to support his father, ensuring that he would not experience such a fall.
But his efforts were in vain, as the second man had already clubbed his father over the back with his bludgeon, sending him careening to the floor.
Still engulfed in smoke, and all but immobilised, the disoriented Masaatsu and Morohira were dragged out towards Kyougoku, and then restrained. Their hands were forced behind their back, bent at the elbows – so they could not summon any force – and then a man sat on each of them, utilising his full weight, and tying their hands up with his arms. They had no way of moving.
Kyougoku took great delight in watching the younger man struggle with all his might to free himself, and laughed heartily.
"Go on then young buck, try and escape. The second you do my boy will bury his axe in your skull."
He then turned to the man of the hour, and crouched down so that he was all but eye level.
Morohira stared up at him with eyes reddened from the smoke, and spat out his evaluation of the beast in front of him.
"You're a fucking coward Kyougoku! I won that fight – fair and square. And you have to come here and try and murder us in our beds? You absolute fucking dog!"
"Hmm…"
The brute in front of him stared at him for a few seconds, as though thinking. His smile did not waver, and a second later he sent a fist toward Morohira's face, rocking his head to the side.
"Now,"
He stood up and spoke as though scolding a naughty child.
"Every time you attempt to insult me you will be punished, understood?"
Morohira and Masaatsu had sent the girls out the front, hoping to allow them to escape, whilst bearing the brunt of the enemies anger themselves.
Alas, their sacrifice had been for nothing, for screams rang out.
The brute's face turned downright demonic as he took the sickest satisfaction in those screams and the reaction of Morohira, whose face fell, and looked as though he had lost all will to live.
Masaatsu, on the other hand, grew even fiercer, struggling with all his might, his anger overwhelming him.
Yet, the club of an axe handle over the back of his head was his only reward.
Rin was dragged around the back of the house, screaming from her pain, her face awash with tears. The hair that she was dragged by tore out in places, leaving bloody marks. Her body collided with numerous obstacles along the rough forest floor, only serving to worsen her torture.
Fuku on the overhand was carried over a man's shoulder, wriggling with all her might to get free, pounding on his back. But her efforts only served to irritate him, as his grip remained firm.
She was thrown to the ground, hard, as soon they drew close to Kyougoku. She landed heavily, crawling along the floor in agony, struggling to breathe, as the wind was forced out of her.
A tear fell from Morohira's eye at the sight of his wife and daughters misery, and he amassed a well of fury. Knowing he could not escape as he was, he chose to conserve it for a better time.
Rin was thrown next to her mother, her exquisite appearance now almost ruined by patches of blood and streams of tears.
By now Gengyo had reached the shore, and scrambled over the pebbles frantically, grasping for his bow.
"You see, Miura. I truly hate you, with every fibre of my being."
The demon pressed his face up against the downed Miura once more, relishing the complete authority that he held over him.
"But killing you… That's so simple. So quick."
He moved over to Fuku, who was still crouched on the floor, and he raised her up.
He ran a hand down her cheek, slowly, gently. She shivered at his touch that was the height of perversion, of repressed feeling, of complete and utter madness. It was a touch that sought to control.
Morohira's mouth opened wide, and his eyes sank. He could not stand that man's touch upon his dear, delicate wife.
But he was not finished there. Looking Morohira in the eye, he continued to foul his wife.
His hand made its way into her the top of her kimono, moving down toward bare skin.
Though they could not see the hand underneath, all present knew what was going on. Fuku stared hard at the floor, clenching her fists, as tears silently ran down her face. She did her best to bear his groping, but could not hold back her yelp as he pinched her bare nipple.
"You have a beautiful wife, Miura…"
He said softly in a voice that was sickeningly sweet, causing Morohira to gag.
He contented himself now with a handful of the softness of her rear, before turning his eyes toward his next target.
"And a beautiful daughter too…"
Rin recoiled at his gaze that was dripping with lust, attempting to step backwards, her tears flowing even faster now. But the solid mass of a man behind her prevented her from going any further.
A pair of strong arms restrained her, and the sickness of Kyougoku loomed ever closer.
His thick fingers slowly pushed back the bloodied hair off her face, ever so gently.
Her face tightened as she attempted to bear it as her mother had.
But then his face grew closer, and his tongue sullied her cheek, tasting her tears.
Kyougoku moved back toward Morohira, talking all the while.
"You see Morohira. I want you to suffer, a good deal, before you eventually die."
"In the end, I suppose, you'll be begging for me to kill you, won't that be nice?"
"You think I'm sick, perhaps? You know nothing about sickness, or madness. Before I finally release you and your family from this world, I will have you watch as I take your daughter and your wife into my bed."
"Ho… That's quite the face you're making. I wonder how you'd feel after actually experiencing it? I'm quite the sick man, as you know. When it comes to the art of lovemaking, I like to think that there is no one as depraved as me."
"Of course, after I'm done – if they're still alive – your women will become the pleasure toys of my men for a time."
He paused his demented monologue, and looked around as if realizing something.
"Ah… There was another one, wasn't there? Where's the boy, Morohira?"
He'd finally noticed that Gengyo was not present.
"I'll be damned if I tell you!"
Morohira physically spat in his direction, but that only caused Kyougoku's smile to grow wider, as he'd found the perfect excuse to send another beating his way.
With the father now covered in fresh blood, he turned to the son.
"Anyway, we have no use for this one. May as well kill him and free up some men."
He spoke so casually when regarding Masaatsu's life, but his men knew he was serious, and dragged the boy forward, forcing him to his knees.
Kyougoku whipped his katana from his scabbard, and lined up the killing strike. He needed no preparation before taking a life.
It was only then that Gengyo made it back to the house, and was greeted with such a sight - a blade hanging ominously above his brother's head.