Years passed since the great battle all those years ago, the fire long quelled by the massive power released by Tashida's blade, yet the flames of those who now served under him, flames of bitter resentment fester over the years, burning into the new age.
"Hey kid, give us all you got! Don't spare a single Mon you hear?!" A man with messy black hair and brown eyes stood before a kid, his hand filled with Mon he had already stolen from this poor lad. Next to him stood a lanky man his ribs poking through his skin.
They stood on a single stretch of dirt road, rice fields on both sides of them, the blue sky stretching overhead.
"I told you I don't have anymore! I gave you all that I had so please let me go!" The boy pleaded, practically stripped of pride and dignity at his riches being taken before his eyes.
The man's face scrunches up in skepticism, leaning his head to the side to get a better view of the boy's possession, eyes gleaming with a predatory shine once he sees it.
"What about that pocketknife strapped to ya?" He grinned, pointing to the handle that poked out of the boy's bleak and tattered kimono. Its handle, pristine and hand woven around the head of the blade, it's pure black lined with a golden hue, in a material that would shimmer under any form of sunlight it could bear to get on it.
"No way, that's mine!" The boy cried, stepping back with his hands over the blade defensively, he glared up at his aggressors, and despite his loud boisterous nature, he backed down, stepping away from the two of them like a puppy who doesn't know how to keep its mouth shut.
"Don't be greedy, give it here!" Though his loud barking was quickly silenced, as the skinny man grabbed a hold of his arms, allowing the black-haired bandit to grab the blade with a smirk.
"I already said no– h-hey!" He cried but it was already too late.
"Yeah, that'll do nicely, how much do you think that'll go for?" He said as he held the blade up high, admiring how it would shine under the sunlight, removing the sheath of the small pocketknife, the blade was revealed to have an emerald tint, the sun making it ever more so beautiful.
"I'd recon a hefty bit of Mon, maybe even some Ryo." The lanky fellow pitched, him too admiring the blade, finally letting the boy fall on his rear with a loud thud.
"Hey, give it back!" The boy cried, running in to tackle the man who held his blade high, admiring its masterful craftsmanship, only to be met by the other's foot, driving him to the dirt roads.
"Buzz off kid, we're letting you off easy so you should live you're life while you still have one." the man who held his blade snarked, his smirk evident even through the gleam of the sun that would attack the boy's eyes.
"That was a gift from my dead father! He entrusted it to me!" He cried, his hand reaching up to block the light that would get in his eyes. Particles of dust flew around his face causing him to cough uncontrollably.
"Tch—Oh so it's used, might cut a few Mon off it–-" the bandit clicked, annoyance evident in his words as he continued to inspect the weapon, hopefulness soon clawing back to the forefront of his gaze. "Then again, it's close enough to pass off as new!"
"Are you listening to me?!" The boy roared, his face turning red at the seams.
"Hey!" A deeper voice shot through the commotion, culling the attention of the two bandits. Their gaze turned to a young boy with white hair done in a bun, his hair tapered to a fade along the sides, one of the sleeves of his orange kimono hanging under the arm that wielded his blade, showing the bandages, he had underneath.
"Let's give the kid his family heirloom back, yeah?" He walked up to the group, his free hand lazily resting in the pocket of his kimono, a wide grin on his face as his black eyes scanned the two men, his katana over his shoulder.
"Who the hell are you?" the bandit spat, holding the blade close to him as he stared the boy down.
"Who am I? I'm glad you asked!" The mysterious stranger announced, his thumb brushing against his nose, his eyes shut with a thoughtful expression on his face his smirk far from gone. "My name is Mirai Tachibana and I'm gonna rule this joint one day!"
"Eh? Rule? You mean the village?" The lanky bandit pondered, confused to the boy's words.
"No, Japan you jackasses!" Mirai shouted, the bandit's stupidity knocking him out of his daydream.
"Haha! Japan?! I'd say you're the jackass here kid!" They both roared of laughter at the boy's dream, Mirai soon straightening his posture and glaring at the two with hooded eyes, both of them howling like hyenas.
"Listen, the last thing this country needs is a kid playing emperor! Much less Japan! You've gotta be high!" They continued their laughter, wiping the tears from their eyes before shooing them off like pests.
"Why don't you two go play samurai somewhere else, okay? Find some drunkard to teach you to wield a sword or something!" Their words struck Mirai's mind, taunting him relentlessly.
"Okay, I was about to let you lot go, but now you just went and pissed me the fuck off!" He roared as he swung his blade to the ground in one swift motion, the tip of the blade inches away from the dirt road. "Come on! Draw your blades! Do it! You bastards!"
"Hold this—" The bandit muttered, pushing the blade into the hands of his skinnier comrade.
"Beat his ass, Ryoshu!" He shouted as he walked up to the kid, his hand resting on his blade hilt.
In one swift motion, he flicked the katana out of the sheath with his thumb, He saw this and struck at the man who quickly dodged out of the way and flashed steps forward with a rising strike.
Mirai threw his head back, barely dodging the strike in the nick of time, both of his hands grasping his weapon as I prepared for another strike.
"Tch– Lucky move-" Ryoshu mumbled under his breath and spat on the roadside before charging in at full force. "You won't dodge this one kid!"
To his surprise Mirai struck first, forcing the man to go on the defensive, his feet dug into the ground as he braced himself, the katana he held strongly before him absorbing the shock of Mirai's strength.
"You little–" Ryoshu cursed, but Mirai did nothing but grin at his annoyed tone.
The bandit pushed the white-haired samurai back before dashing in once more, his blade coming down on the boy, alas he sidestepped the blow, dragging his sandals across the earth to keep his balance.
Ryoshu started to get desperate, swinging with all that he could muster, not even noticing the blade that was coming straight for him from under.
"There," Mirai smirked, stopping the bridge right under his nose, the blade pressed against his nostrils, threatening to chop it off.
He kicked the bandit backward, causing him to stumble to the dirt roads with a thud, his gaze turning towards the lanky bandit once more.
"You… hand it over," he muttered, pressing the blade against Ryoshu's neck "Or do you want this dumbass to die here?"
There was a moment of hesitancy, the bandit looking down at Ryoshu.
"Don't do it you–ugh!" Ryoshu tried to say but his words were cut by the blade pressing harder against his Adam's apple.
"Hurry! I'm a man of little patience—" Mirai muttered, his actions thus far showing no signs that this was a bluff.
"Fine, here! You crazy kid!" The bandit tossed the blade in its sheath over the boy, his feeble hands managing to catch it.
"His money too!" Mirai stood and waited until the kid's Mon had been returned to him.
As promised, he sheathed his blade. Watching as Ryoshu scrambled to his feet to make as much distance as possible between him and the young samurai.
"This isn't over kid, you hear me!?" he roared, both glaring at the boy who bares no emotion to his threat.
"If you want to come for me, then come, I'll be in the village, just waiting to cut down you and everyone you bring my way." He hissed, his words laced with intent that shivered the boy's aggressors' spine, both fleeing with their tails between their legs.
"H-hey…" The boy spoke up and looked up to the samurai who saved him. "Thanks for what you did for me…"
"They weren't strong either…" He heard Mirai mutter under his breath, his thanks seemingly lost in his thoughts. "Coming here was a waste of time after all—"
Mirai started to walk ahead, leaving the boy behind in the path, helpless and calling out to him.
'H-hey! Wait! I didn't get to thank you…" He kept calling out, but he wouldn't look behind him. The boy clutched the blade close to him.