As Daisuke struggled to free his foot from the ground, the weight of his failure bore down on him like a crushing burden. With a heavy heart, he wrenched the sword from the earth as it slipped out of his foot; his mind awash with self-recrimination. How had he allowed himself to become so weak, so vulnerable?
Beside him, Sakutarō's anguished cries pierced the silence, flooding through the desolate landscape like a haunting lament. Unable to contain his grief, Sakutarō's sobs grew louder, his anguish palpable as he lashed out in a frenzy of despair.
"Why?!" he wailed, his voice raw with pain as he struck his head unforgivingly against the wall.
Daisuke's heart ached at the sight of Sakutarō's suffering, his own sense of helplessness magnified by Sakutarō's screams. With a heavy heart, he moved to console the distraught boy, only to be met with a barrage of punches and kicks as Sakutarō fought against Daisuke's embrace.
"No, Sakutarō, stop!" Daisuke pleaded, his voice dripping with desperation as he struggled to restrain Sakutarō's frenzied assault. "This is not the answer. Your father would not want this."
As Sakutarō's resistance waned, his body sagged against Daisuke's, his energy spent in a futile struggle against the tide of grief that threatened to consume him. Daisuke cradled Sakutarō in his arms, the weight of their shared sorrow pressing down upon them like a suffocating shroud.
"We must train, Sakutarō," Daisuke whispered. "I will give you three days to mourn. After that, the world will begin to fear us. I promise you that."
Sakutarō's response was a silent nod, his eyes dull and vacant as he stared blankly at the ground. With a heavy sigh, Daisuke gently lifted Sakutarō onto his chest, the weight feeling insignificant compared to the weight of despair within him.
As they emerged into the daylight, Daisuke activated his summon, the Wolf darting off into the distance in search of Makoto. Sakutarō tapped Daisuke's shoulder, signaling to be set down, before retreating to the shade of a nearby tree, his face buried in his hands as he succumbed to the overwhelming weight of his grief.
Hours passed in silence, broken only by the distant sound of approaching footsteps. Relief flooded through Daisuke as Makoto appeared, his expression a mixture of concern and confusion.
"Daisuke, Sakutarō, what happened?" Makoto expressed with urgency as he surveyed the scene before him.
"Raidon. Raidon happened." Daisuke murmured, his voice heavy with resignation. "He works for the government. He came with another Tokihanatsu warrior. The fucker had a Dragon summon."
Makoto's eyes widened in shock at the revelation, his mind reeling with the implications of such a formidable adversary. "A Dragon?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
Daisuke made his decision. "Makoto, I need you to look after Sakutarō," he implored, his voice filled with sorrow. "Continue his training. As for me... I must speak with Hōkai."
Makoto nodded in understanding, his heart pained by their shared loss. "Of course, Daisuke. I'll take care of Sakutarō."
"I need to have some words with Hōkai. I need get as strong as possible. Even if it means cutting my lifespan. I can't let us go out like this. Not like this."
As Daisuke finished speaking, Makoto's gaze fell upon Sakutarō, a troubling thought crossing his mind. "Where is Tōsō? And Genji?"
The words hung heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the tragedy that had befallen them. Daisuke turned away, his eyes fixed on the smoldering ruins of the once-happy home.
"They're dead." Daisuke stated. "They were killed before we arrived."
Shocked, Makoto was unable to speak. That is, until he noticed something.
"Your back, Daisuke. There's a death star in it." Makoto stretched out his arm, and pulled the blade from Daisuke's back. As he did so, Daisuke took it from him and looked at it.
"I'll return this to Raidon." Daisuke said with determination.
Sakutarō stood up and made his way towards the house.
"What's wrong? What are you doing?" Daisuke asked. Just as Daisuke used to ignore Sakutarō, Sakutarō now returned the favour as he walked past Daisuke and Makoto without acknowledgement.
"Sakutarō?" Daisuke asked, Sakutarō continuing to ignore him.
A few moments passed by, as Sakutarō could be seen pouring oil inside the house. He continued to pour it out until he reached the door, where he lit a candle. He held it out and paused for a moment before dropping it.
As the flames licked at the sky, consuming everything in its path, Sakutarō stood silent and unmoving, his gaze fixed on the inferno before him.
"The old Sakutarō dies along with the house," his voice barely a whisper as he watched the flames consume everything he had ever known. And as the fire raged on, consuming everything in its path, Sakutarō remained standing, feeling every burn and flame that brushed him. It was as if it were burning away every bit of childishness, fear and innocence from his existence.