Quietly disembarking the carriage, a faint smile graced Arata's lips as his returning home brought back the fondest of memories. Before him was a grand mansion whose bright colours were beautifully enhanced by the afternoon sun. His smile was soon replaced with a forlorn expression while he pondered; with this being his first time returning in a while, it was truly a shame that he couldn't enjoy it to the fullest.
Kiyoko stood beside him, quietly observing his reaction before touching his arm gently, "Let's head in, shall we?"
Arata nodded and walked with her, pausing briefly as he noted the presence of many people before him. Leaning to his sister, he quietly inquired, "I had believed that by knowing my state, Father would have prepared for a much more subtle welcome." She simpered at his comment, the latter tilting his head slightly, perplexed by her reaction.
"It seems all those years away had made you forget how things work here. This," Kiyoko gestured with her open palms at the lines of the house's workers who all bowed to greet the returning Arashi, "is as subtle as it gets."
"Is that so," he stood upright, continuing after a brief pause, "Well I should be grateful that a festival was not thrown to celebrate my return."
Kiyoko giggled lightly, the younger Arashi turning to her as though shooting her a glance before he faced ahead, masking the curiosity he felt.
"Maybe if you had acquired some amazing achievement, then Father would consider doing such. Speaking of," she looked from her brother to the hulking man who stood by the entrance of his home.
Years had passed and the Patriarch of the Arashi didn't seem to have aged a bit; his spiky blue hair that could be easily likened to a lion's mane was shifted by a gentle breeze, his trimmed beard, and stern gaze along with his muscular form commanded power. He donned an armour with a similar design to Kiyoko's but larger, a two-handed greatsword with the emblem of a silver dragon at its hilt hung on his waist, partly covered by his azure cloak. His gaze moved from the concerned Kiyoko to the impassive Arata, his brows furrowing slightly at the bandages that bound his eyes.
"We greet the patriarch." The two stated in unison.
"Inside." His cloak bellowed as he turned and headed inside the mansion, his children a few paces behind him.
Arata couldn't tell if it was homesickness or if he was simply relieved that very little had changed, but everything, including his father's cold and straight-to-the-point command; contrasting the warm welcome people normally received when returning home, brought a smile to his face. He raised a hand to cover his lips but that only attracted the formerly uninterested Kiyoko who raised a brow at his actions.
The patriarch stopped by a large pair of mahogany doors and so did his children, his firstborn shooting a questioning glance at the younger, immediately realizing her futile action and sighing tiredly.
"Your mother has had little sleep as she was awaiting your arrival. Do not worry her much."
Matching his father's tone, all traces of Arata's previous smile vanished as he replied, "Understood, Father."
Sparing him a glance, the patriarch pushed open the doors, meeting the gaze of a winsome woman who hopped off her chair at the sound of his entry. The first lady of the Arashi was beautiful and that fact didn't seem to change even in the face of time. She was fair and of average height, her long blue was braided and hung on her shoulder. Slowly releasing a part of her white trench coat from her nervous grasp, a few wrinkles faded as her expression eased, her eyes growing glossier with each passing moment.
Closing the distance in a few steps, Kiyoko called out, "Mother, we're back." Chortling lightly at the prolonged embrace from her firstborn, she returned her worried gaze to Arata, her brows furrowing at the covering on his face.
Sensing her gaze and assuming worry to be the emotion associated with it, Arata approached her silently, wearing a small smile while he held her hand reassuringly. "Oh by the way, nee-sama," Kiyoko glimpsed at Arata, brow raised, "Does our family still practice it? The closed door tradition I mean?"
She turned to her mother who mirrored her confusion at his statement, a few seconds passed before her eyes widened in realization, a smile gracing her lips afterwards. "Yes, yes we do."
Gaining the answer he required, Arata pulled his mother into a hug, her eyes growing teary as she embraced him tightly.
"I am fine, mother. You need not worry," Arata whispered reassuringly, a weak laugh escaping her.
"I see you still speak as stiffly as before." Holding his hands and stepping back to get a good look at Arata, she smiled wistfully as she focused on the bandages.
The patriarch's thunderous steps echoed in the silent room while he closed the distance between himself and his family, gently placing his hand on his spouse's shoulder, "Hisako, let the children sit, they have just returned." Looking between her husband and son, Hisako sighed and reluctantly let Arata go.
"I take it you have a lot of questions, father, mother?"
The Arashi head sat back, his burly arms crossed before his chest while he fixed a stern gaze on his son, his wife's nudge and his paternal instincts erasing his cold demeanour. "What happened? Do not leave a single thing out, Arata."
"I would not dream of doing such, Father." His smile faded as he leaned forward.
Inhaling deeply, Arata began recounting his experiences; from his battle against Hijiri to his meeting with Roland continuing with the terror attack on the capital before rounding up with the deduction the Night raider had drawn and how the autopsy of Ellie's body supported it. He had decided to keep the interaction with the laughing child to himself as he had little knowledge of what that was and he hoped Kirin would shed more light on it after he was unsealed.
But it seemed his father had noticed he was keeping something from them, Arata could tell from the cold stare aimed at him, that although he couldn't see, the hairs on his neck stood in response.
"Ranto," Hisako said softly, her small hands covering a portion of his as she shook her head in disapproval. He sighed and turned away, much to the satisfaction of his wife and son. Arashi Ranto was known to be a very perceptive man; in fact, it was a trait that had helped him triumph over his enemies countless times, and he applied that even within his family. His presence with them varied, depending on his responsibilities at the time, and while they never blamed him for his absence, he noted all that could be said about them; their likes, dislikes, tics, all of it. While his true intention could've been perceived as tactical - a means to control his family without issues be it directly or indirectly - a nobler approach to it was that was simply his way of connecting to his family, even in his absence during their fonder moments.
"I would like you to trust me, Father. You better than anyone should know that I am not one to make whimsical decisions." Ranto looked at Arata and turned away, having grasped the hidden meaning of his statement, the confused glances the Arashi women shared not going unnoticed by him.
Exhaling audibly and writing off their actions as a "guy moment", Hisako faced Arata with a concerned gaze, saying, "To think the Order of Flames would respond in such a manner?"
"I apologize for that." The three turned surprised to the bowing Ranto, sharing a look of concern while he continued, "If I had handled the incident with the three clans better, you would not have been in such a position. For that I am sorry."
Arata's lips drew into a thin line and he rose, walking briskly to his father to reassure him, "Father please, it was not something anyone could have seen coming. The enemy knew we were not united and used that against us."
Ranto faced his son, a faint smile disappearing as soon as it appeared as he took his seat, assuming his previous posture.
"Still," the Arashi family made Kiyoko the centre of attention as she spoke, "Would the empire be crazy enough to attack three out of the four families to eliminate them?"
"Last I recall," Hisako glanced at her husband, continuing at his nod, "they lacked the power to wipe the Hono, Tani or even Yama clan even if they were sufficiently weakened."
"That is where a hypothesis of mine comes in, Mother," she raised a brow at Arata who leaned forward, interlocking his fingers. "I believe a traitor if not several were the ones who brought the clans to their demise and planned it in such a manner that the empire alone will take the blame."
"There must be a reason you believe that, Arata?"
He faced his father, his tone growing solemn as he spoke, "First of all, there was the strange fact that a most favoured general, one usually tasked with quelling rebellions and known for her bloodthirsty means of doing so, did not know about the massacre of the three clans. Secondly, while investigating, very few records existed to tie the empire to the action directly. The only order I came across was the one to subdue Hono Hijiri because he was seen as a threat to the empire." Arata turned to Kiyoko as she suddenly leaned forward, sighing exasperatedly, her hands massaging her temples while her brows furrowed.
"You're telling us that this third party killed off the three clans and left the empire to take the fall?"
"Not the way I worded it nee-sama, but yes."
"And Armageddon's fragment?"
"Gone, father. It seems they stole it amid my battle with a mutated colossal danger beast, who had this," he pulled a paper-wrapped item out of his pocket and handed it over to his father, "in itself."
Ranto gently unwrapped the parcel, violently shuddering at the sight of the twisted black piece in his palms. While a shiver from a normal person would usually be written off as fear, that was not the case for the patriarch; Arashi Ranto had never known fear and to further emphasize his emotion, Kiyoko found herself flinching slightly at the raw murderous intent she noted upon looking at her father's eyes. His left fist balled up, the veins in his head bulging as he spoke through clenched jaws, his gaze still fixed on the fragment in his palm, "Who dares to the soil the sacrifice of generations?!"