Fushiguro's pov
I thought it was hopeless. Ever since I was a kid, I believed my fate had been sealed by the gods—a sickly slave sold to far-off lands, just waiting to die beneath the bite of a whip.
"H-Hey! What are you—" A man's shout pierced through the crowd as he spotted me stealing from his stand. I couldn't remember much about his face—only that he looked old, likely in his late sixties.
I ran. My bare feet pounded against the dusty streets of Edo, weaving through the bustling crowd. But he didn't hesitate, abandoning his stall to chase after me.
Stealing was my only way to survive. Running was second nature, a desperate instinct born from countless escapes. Sometimes, I got away. But other times—
"Got you now!" His hand snatched the tattered rags that barely clung to my body, yanking me backward with brute force.
His fury crashed down on me like a storm, his hand striking with rage as I cowered.
Sometimes... I was caught and beaten.
"Why… why did this have to happen to me," Everynight I would wonder, my back braced up against the cold unforgiving walls of the buildings that towered over me, no one daring to spare me a sympathetic glance.
"He probably got like this on his own doing," They said.
"A slave is like a dog nothing more, who are we to tell them how to handle it," Their words bore into me like knifes riddled with poison, my hands clucthed at my legs, my head buried between them with shut eyes, begging for this nightmare to end!
End it…please
Through the heat and through the rain I've endured, I've endured it all!
Please…I don't want to die! I don't want to die, mom!
I was lost to a foreign land, I couldn't speak nor could I understand their speech… it was all foreign to me— There was no one I could turn to- no one I could speak to.
I can't…I can't have it– no…I can't bare this anymore!
My hands tremble, and my breathing was uneasy, it felt like the world was trembling around me, until one day I just couldn't handle the weight of my own existence.
"You again?" The old man pondered, his face in a dirty sneer at my presence. He fully turned to me, my head hung low as I just stood there, soon collapsing to my knees. My cracked lips soon parting to speak.
"P-please…end my life—" I spoke, my voice trembling in a sad display, my hands falling to meet my knees as I spoke, my nails digging into the dry dirt roads…
"Huh? What are you saying kid?" The man spat, his hand on his hips as he tried to decipher my foreign tongue.
"Hurry up and get lost already!" With a dismissive sway of his hand he shooed me before returning to his stand, leaving me bowing before him, my head pressed against the dirt like an idiot.
"What is he doing?" A woman passing by pondered.
"Probably begging him for food– or to be his slave or something!" Another chuckled,
I don't get it…what are they saying…
(They're mocking you–)
Why are they laughing!?
(They think they're better than you,)
I don't understand!
(You need to show them… show them their place!)
I fell far from death- whether it be from cowardace–or something more… I continued to walk the cold icy dirt roads.
(We will all show them…together!)
I felt an embrace, a cold one filled with malice and contempt, one of anger, one of rage, and before I knew it, I saw it before me…
A blade that shimmered under the moonlight just amidst my path, it's angelic glow tempting to the eyes, especially to one of a thief like myself…
It was nestled along the road I walk, maybe an adventurer left it behind? Or maybe it fell out of the cart of a wandering merchant— either way, it didn't matter much to me…
"With this… surely food would never be too far from me–" I said aloud, inching closer to the katana, my hands trembling, just itching to get a grasp of it. I kneeled down, my knees digging into the dirt as my fragile, boney fingers wrapped around it.
For once I smiled, for once; I was happy! I had something to look forward to!
"But—" I muttered, the realization soon dawned on me. "For what this sword is worth– when it's done then what?"
There was no one who wanted to hire me, much less talk or pay me for that manner, I'm just left in the dust to rot, a feeble cockroach that gotten too used to insecticide.
Slowly I drew the blade, my mind made up as I watched the moon light shimmer against the sharp blade.
I stared into my reflection, and it too stared back, the vision of a boy, with black hair and golden eyes, staring right at me, his face filled with temporary resolve.
I rest the tip of the blade by my neck, crimson dripping from the small cut on my adams apple. The air around me suddenly feeling cold, like a thousand needles piercing my flesh.
(They're mocking you!)
No don't go!
(They took you from your home! From your family!)
I didn't want to be here!
(You're nothing but merchandise to them!)
I want to be happy!
I don't want to die,
My fingers trembled around the hilt, the blade glinting under the moonlight. A reflection stared back at me, hollow eyes brimming with pain and a face unrecognizable even to myself.
"This is the only way…" The words escaped in a shuddering whisper as I pressed the blade against my neck, its cold edge biting into my skin. Blood trickled down, warm against the chill of the night.
(They'll laugh at you. Always.)
(You're nothing but their merchandise.)
I clenched my teeth, the voices swelling, drowning everything else.
"It's not fair…" My voice cracked. "It's not fair!"
"Stop!"
The voice startled me, soft yet firm, pulling me from the abyss. I turned, my vision blurred with tears, to see a girl standing before me. Black hair cascaded down her back, her wide blue eyes filled with something I couldn't place.
"Why would you do that?" she asked, tilting her head. "Swords aren't for hurting yourself."
Her words felt like a slap. I let the blade slip from my hands, clattering against the dirt.
"Leave me alone," I choked out, curling into myself as sobs I hadn't allowed in years tore free.
She didn't leave. Instead, she knelt beside me, her hand awkwardly patting my head. "There, there."
I hated her in that moment. Her kindness and foreign words felt like mockery, and yet… it was the first time someone had touched me without anger or disgust.
"Do you have a home?" She pondered, watching as I dispel the tears from my eyes. Her words however fell on deaf ears, my head hung low in defeat.
(She's mocking you,)
(There're all mocking you!)
The voice just continued, louder and louder without end…
"Lady Kirei!" A guard's voice cut through the air, and suddenly, she was yanked away.
"You shouldn't be here!" he scolded, shielding her with his body. "You know how desperate their kind gets!"
Their kind. That's what we were to them. Less than human.
"If it wasn't a child, you could've been held hostage, or…"
Their words faded off more and more, as my eyelids shut and my head grew lighter, the last thing I heard past my ringing ears. The last thing I saw before the darkness took me was her concerned face, her lips forming words I couldn't hear, before I fell unconscious to the ground.