Moments before everything fell apart, Zack's house was enveloped in an atmosphere of peace. Aika held Hana in her arms, gently rocking the baby to sleep. Kento, sitting on the floor with Zack beside him, showed the child how to handle a small carved piece of wood he used to teach his son about simple tools. 

— Zack, look. When you're older, I'm going to teach you to make incredible things with wood — Kento said with a smile on his face. — Maybe even a sword, like the real ones.

Zack laughed, excited, his eyes shining with the prospect.

— Really, Dad? I'm going to have my own sword?

— Of course. But first, you need to learn patience. Just look, slowly, don't rush... — Kento took Zack's hand, guiding him carefully to make a small notch.

— He has your determination, Kento — Aika said, watching the scene while cradling Hana. — I just hope he doesn't have your stubbornness.

— Hey! — Kento feigned indignation, making Zack laugh.

It was at that moment that something strange caught Aika's attention. She furrowed her brow, tilting her head slightly.

— Did you hear that?

Kento stopped playing with Zack and fell silent, listening intently. The sound was distant but disturbing: rapid footsteps and muffled shouts. The sound of something — or someone — falling.

— What's happening outside? — Kento asked, carefully getting up.

Aika tightened her grip on Hana, her face becoming serious.

— I don't know. But I don't like it.

The screams grew louder, and now footsteps could be clearly heard, as if a group was approaching the house. The sound of clinking metal made Aika nervous.

— Kento... — her voice was tense, almost a whisper.

— Aika, take Zack and Hana and hide. Now. — Kento spoke firmly, quickly grabbing an improvised stick he kept near the door.

Before Aika could react, they heard loud banging on the door.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Zack's eyes widened. He tugged at the hem of his mother's dress.

— Mommy... who is it?

— Quiet, my love. — Aika quickly knelt and held Zack's face in her hands, trying to keep calm. — Don't say anything, okay? Go with Dad.

The door shook again, this time more forcefully, as if someone were trying to break in.

— We don't have time. Go now! — Kento shouted, looking at Aika as the door seemed ready to give way.

She took Zack by the hand, firmly holding Hana with her other arm, and ran toward the wardrobe. Kento's last words, before the ninjas invaded the house, still echoed in her mind:

— Protect our children, Aika.

The sound of the door breaking and the brutal footsteps of the invaders heralded the beginning of chaos.

Aika felt her heart race as the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the house. She knew she didn't have much time. Hana, who had been restless until then, began to cry, the sound echoing in the small space.

— There's a woman and a baby here. — Daigo's cold voice sliced through the silence, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps. — It can't be hard to find them.

Aika bit her lip, trying to hold back tears. She looked at Zack, who trembled but remained silent, his eyes wide with pure terror. One moment was enough for her to understand what she had to do. There was no choice.

Carefully, she pushed Zack into the darkest and tightest corner of the wardrobe, a blind spot that would be hard to see. She held his face in her hands, forcing him to look into her eyes.

— Zack, listen. No matter what happens, don't make a sound. Stay here. — Her voice was firm, but laden with a love that hurt. — Promise Mommy, my love. Stay here.

Zack nodded, but his eyes pleaded for her not to go.

— Mommy...

— Shhh. — She quickly kissed his forehead and rose, holding Hana in her arms. The baby's cries were louder now.

Without looking back, Aika slowly opened the wardrobe door and stepped out. She took a deep breath, adjusted Hana in her arms, and headed in the opposite direction of the footsteps, trying to appear confident, as if she were simply protecting her daughter. She knew she couldn't show fear.

As soon as she entered the hallway, she came face to face with Daigo and two other ninjas. They paused upon seeing her. Daigo raised an eyebrow, his expression cold.

— So, here you are. — He pointed at Hana. — And this baby? Is she the only one?

Aika maintained a steady gaze, even while feeling her heart nearly stop.

— Yes. It's just me and my daughter. My husband tried to fight. Please... don't hurt her. — Her voice was almost a whisper but firm.

Daigo stepped forward, analyzing her. He tilted his head, his cruel eyes searching for any lie in her words.

— Just you and the baby? — he asked again, this time with a sharper tone.

— Yes. — Aika held Hana closer, forcing herself to stay calm. — There's no one else.

Hana's cries were the only thing breaking the heavy silence. The other ninjas seemed satisfied with the answer, but Daigo hesitated. He looked around suspiciously, but there were no signs of anyone else.

— Tsk. Rai, finish this. — He ordered, turning to the ninja beside him. — Let's get this over with.

Aika swallowed hard but stood firm. She knew there was no escape, but at least Zack was still hidden, safe. That was all that mattered.

As Rai approached, his eyes met Aika's for a moment. There was something there — a flicker of doubt, of hesitation. But it was quick, disappearing as soon as it appeared. He raised the blade, and Aika closed her eyes, holding Hana tighter.

Zack was hiding behind the wardrobe. He trembled as the cold blood pooled on the floor, forming a puddle that reached his feet. His eyes were wide, but he couldn't look away from the gap between the doors of the furniture, where he watched the horrors unfold.

The screams of Kento, his father, echoed throughout the house. Each shout seemed weaker, each word more laden with pain. He desperately tried to fight, but his movements were becoming slower, his body heavier. Across the room, Aika, his mother, held Hana, the baby just months old, in her arms. Her voice, once sweet, was now unrecognizable, filled with desperation and fury.

— Don't touch her! — she screamed, her body trembling as she used herself as a shield to protect her daughter.

But the sound of a blade slicing through the air was followed by silence. The baby's small cry ceased, and Zack watched his mother fall to her knees, still clutching the small, lifeless body. She screamed, but it was a primal sound, a cry that didn't seem human. Zack bit his own hand to keep from making a sound.

Kento, realizing the end was inevitable, crawled to the wardrobe where he had hidden Zack moments earlier. He pressed his bloody hand against the furniture and, with one last breath of strength, asked:

— Why... Why are you doing this?

The masked ninja in front of him hesitated for a moment. His brown eyes — visible through the mask — showed a shadow of compassion. Rai replied, his voice low, almost a whisper:

— It's necessary...

But before he could say more, another ninja advanced. Daigo, taller and with a cruel presence, pushed Rai aside.

— You talk too much. They're just an insignificant village. Don't waste time.

In one swift motion, Daigo took the kunai from Rai's hand and plunged it into Kento's heart. Zack's father's eyes widened, not in pain, but in surprise. He wanted more time, just a few more seconds, for his son to understand everything. But time was taken from him. Kento fell to the ground, motionless.

Zack squeezed his eyes shut and hugged his knees. He didn't know if he was trembling from fear or cold. He no longer knew what to feel.

— Search the whole house. Leave no survivors. — Daigo ordered, his tone icy.

The ninjas began to search every corner of the house. Zack, paralyzed by shock, remained silent. It wasn't a conscious choice; he simply couldn't react.

Rai approached the wardrobe. He paused for a moment, looking at the furniture. That's when he noticed a small movement between the slats. He tilted his head and saw Zack's terrified eyes. Rai hesitated. His colleagues couldn't see.

For a moment, something in his heart tightened.

Zack, realizing he had been discovered, instinctively let out a small sound, a weak whimper of panic.

— What was that sound? — one of the ninjas asked from the other side of the room.

Rai quickly turned and replied:

— It was just me. I bumped into something. All clear here.

He lingered there for a few more seconds, looking at the wardrobe before stepping back. Daigo shot him a suspicious glance but decided not to question.

— Let's go. We're done here.

The ninjas left the house, and Zack was left alone, surrounded by the silence and the metallic smell of blood. He wasn't crying. He didn't know if it was because he had no strength or because the tears simply wouldn't come.

Zack remained there, not knowing for how long, immersed in the absolute silence that followed the screams and the sounds of fighting. The heavy smell of blood in the air seemed almost suffocating, and he couldn't move, couldn't process what had just happened. His mind was foggy, as if he were sinking in an endless nightmare. When, finally, the footsteps of the invaders faded away, and he felt the silence around him as a pressure on his chest, he no longer knew what to do.

With difficulty, his feet moved, and he began to walk through the destroyed house. With each step, horror seemed to take over his vision. The walls, once welcoming, were now stained with blood. The floor was marked, and signs of struggle were scattered everywhere. He looked at the broken furniture, the remnants of a peaceful life that had been ruined. And there, in the middle of the room, was Kento, his father, fallen on the ground, his body still warm but lifeless.

Zack swallowed hard, trying to suppress the knot in his throat that impeded his breathing. He approached, and his hands trembled as he reached for Kento's body. His father was lying on his back, his face pale and eyes closed. A kunai was lodged in his chest. The blood still stained the area around, forming a whirlpool of pain and despair.

Zack fell to his knees beside him. His eyes, flooded with tears that still wouldn't fall, were fixed on his father. The boy felt a deep emptiness, as if the ground had disappeared beneath his feet.

— Dad... talk to me... — his voice was hoarse, as if he had lost the ability to breathe properly. — Tell me you're going to teach me to make swords to protect you. Tell me you're still here...

He waited. But Kento did not respond.

Zack ran a hand across his face, trying to brush away the tears that refused to fall. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He couldn't accept it. He stood up, staggering, his feet heavy as if he were walking on quicksand.

With effort, he made his way to Aika, his mother. She was on her knees, holding Hana still in her arms, with a vacant expression, a deep pain that seemed to have swallowed her soul. She was pale, her expression frozen in horror, her eyes half-closed as if she were trying to ward off the reality surrounding her. Hana was in Aika's arms, still with a serene expression, but her eyes were open, motionless, as if they didn't understand what had happened.

Zack knelt beside his mother. He touched Aika's face with trembling hands.

— Mom... talk to me... — his voice faltered, filled with pain and despair. — Tell me you're here. Tell me you're going to teach me to be strong... Tell me you'll teach me to protect our family...

But Aika did not respond. Her silence was worse than the scream itself. The emptiness, the profound pain, the sensation of loss that engulfed Zack like an immense and unrelenting wave.

Zack stood up, his heart beating irregularly, terror finally taking hold of his mind. He looked at Hana, and for the first time, the tears finally began to fall. He could no longer hold back. He looked at the small child, so defenseless, so pure, and the weight of the loss crushed his chest.

— NO! NO! — he screamed, the pain overflowing in his cry. He fell to his knees beside Hana and Aika, arms outstretched, as if he could do something to reverse that tragedy. — WHY?! WHY DID THEY HAVE TO DO THIS?!

He looked at his mother's body, then at his father's, then at Hana. His mind was in pieces; the world seemed to have collapsed over his head. He no longer knew what to do. He didn't know how to cope with the emptiness consuming him.

The pain was unbearable. He didn't understand, couldn't accept. His mind was a chaos, and all he could do was scream. Scream for something that might never return.