The forest was silent, save for the soft crunch of frost beneath the feet of a lone figure. The Tenshiro Clan's village, nestled deep within the heart of the secluded woods, was a place of tranquility—a haven untouched by the chaos of the outside world. Tonight, however, the air was heavy with an unspoken tension, as if the very forest itself held its breath.
The eve of winter had draped the village in a blanket of white. Frost clung to the trees, their branches glistening like silver under the pale moonlight. The rooftops of the traditional wooden houses sparkled, their chimneys puffing out thin trails of smoke that rose into the starless sky. The village was a constellation of warmth in the cold, a testament to the resilience of its people.
But peace, as the Tenshiro Clan would soon learn, was a fragile thing.
In the center of the village, a young boy with silvery-white hair sat cross-legged on the engawa of his family's home. His name was Kaito Tenshiro, and though he was only seven years old, his piercing eyes—glowing faintly with an otherworldly light—betrayed a maturity beyond his years. The villagers often whispered about those eyes, calling them a blessing from the heavens. But to Kaito, they were just… there. A part of him, like the frost on the trees or the smoke from the chimneys.
"Kaito," a gentle voice called from inside the house. His mother, Ayame Tenshiro, stepped out onto the engawa, her long silver hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall of moonlight. She knelt beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's late. You should come inside."
Kaito shook his head, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "I'm not tired," he said softly. "I like it out here. It's… quiet."
Ayame smiled, but there was a flicker of unease in her eyes. "Quiet can be deceiving, my son. Sometimes, the calmest nights hide the fiercest storms."
Kaito tilted his head, his glowing eyes narrowing. "Do you think something's wrong?"
Before Ayame could answer, a distant sound echoed through the forest—a sound that made her blood run cold. It was the faintest of noises, like the rustling of leaves, but it carried with it an unmistakable sense of danger.
The first arrow struck without warning, piercing the heart of a villager who had been tending to the firewood. The man crumpled to the ground, his blood staining the frost-covered earth. Chaos erupted as arrows began falling like rain and figures emerged from the shadows, their forms cloaked in red and white. They moved like ghosts, their movements swift and precise, their faces hidden behind masks that bore no expression.
"To arms!" shouted Haruto Tenshiro, Kaito's father and the leader of the clan. He leapt from the rooftop of their home, his hands already forming seals. "Protect the village!"
The Tenshiro Clan were not warriors by nature, but they were ninja, and they would not go down without a fight. Flames erupted from Haruto's hands, illuminating the night as he clashed with the invaders. Around him, other villagers joined the fray, their techniques a blend of agile grace and primal ferocity.
The Tenshiro Clan's white eyes glowed in the darkness, a hallmark of their lineage. Each clansman moved with precision and power, their techniques honed over generations. One villager, an elderly woman with a hunched back, raised her hands, and the ground beneath the attackers erupted in a cascade of ice shards. Another, a young man barely older than Kaito, summoned a swirling vortex of wind that sent several invaders flying.
But the attackers were relentless. Their movements were calculated, their techniques brutal. They cut through the villagers like a scythe through wheat, their red and white cloaks a blur of death.
Kaito stood frozen, his small hands clenched into fists. His mother had pushed him behind her, her body shielding him from the chaos. But he could still see it—the blood, the fire, the screams. His heart pounded in his chest, and his vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes.
"Kaito," Ayame said, her voice trembling. "Listen to me. You need to run. Take the forest path and don't look back. Do you understand?"
Kaito shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. "I can't leave you. I can't—"
A sudden cry cut him off. Haruto had fallen, his body crumpling to the ground as a masked figure stood over him, a bloodied blade in hand. Ayame's breath hitched, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.
Then, something inside Kaito snapped.
His eyes, already glowing faintly, erupted with a blinding light. The air around him crackled with energy, and the ground beneath his feet began to tremble. The attackers paused, their masks turning toward the source of the disturbance.
"What… is this?" one of them muttered, his voice tinged with fear.
Kaito didn't understand what was happening. All he knew was that he couldn't lose anyone else. Not his father. Not his mother. Not his home.
With a scream that echoed through the forest, Kaito seemed to overflow with light. A shockwave of white energy erupted from his small body, distorting gravity and sending the attackers flying. The village was bathed in an otherworldly light, and for a moment, it seemed as though the stars themselves had descended to earth.
But when the light faded, the damage was done. The village was in ruins, its people scattered and broken. And Kaito, his small body trembling with exhaustion, fell to his knees, his glowing eyes wide with horror.
The forest was silent once more, the frost-covered trees standing as silent witnesses to the tragedy that had unfolded. Kaito sat amidst the wreckage, his mother's arms wrapped tightly around him. She was alive, but barely. His father was gone, his body lying motionless a few feet away.
"Kaito," Ayame whispered, her voice weak. "Don't cry, my little light." Ayame held out her hand to him, he quickly reached out to hold her hands in his, even though her hands were still much larger than his, it was uncertain if the shakiness of it was her fading strength or Kaito's despair. "You must… survive. Promise me."
Kaito nodded, tears streaming down his face. "I promise."
As the first rays of dawn broke through the trees, Kaito Tenshiro stood, his glowing eyes dimmed but still burning with determination. The Tenshiro Clan was no more, but he would carry their legacy forward. And one day, he would find those responsible for this night.
Those in red and white.
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