The night was a living beast, devouring screams and lightning. Arashi, seven years old, hid behind a wooden pillar, his hands gripping a small paper kite painted with golden cranes by his mother. [The object symbolizes their bond.]
His father, Takeshi, fought like a demon. The Nine Clans, masked in grotesque ivory shapes, surrounded him. Their blades roared, but Akeron's katana danced, slicing through their armor's strings.
— "You will take nothing!" roared Takeshi, his bloodshot eyes meeting his son's. A moment of vulnerability.
Then the betrayal struck.
A purple rune flared on Arashi's wrist. The same one engraved on the mask of the leader of the Nine Clans — a woman with white hair, her fingers sharp as claws.
— "Korosu," she whispered.
Arashi's body stiffened. His kite fell. He felt a vicious heat flood his veins, as if metal spiders wove through his muscles.
— "P-Papa... help me..."
Takeshi blocked an attack, his gaze searching the courtyard.
— "Arashi! Where are you—"
The blade of a dagger — the one his mother had forbidden him to touch — cut through the air.
The strike was clumsy, trembling... but guided by dark magic.
The blade sank into Takeshi's shoulder.
— "No!" cried a voice.
His mother, Miyuki, emerged from the shadows, her black hair undone, a tanto in her hand. She leapt toward the Nine Clans, her eyes blazing with maternal fury.
— "Let go of my son!"
The leader of the Clans laughed, a sound like shattered bells.
— "You want to save him? Then show him your love."
The rune on Arashi's wrist pulsed.
This time, it was worse.
Images burned into his mind: his mother stabbing him in the back, her laughter morphing into that of the Clans, her arms pushing him into a bottomless pit…
— "Mama... wants to kill me…" Arashi whimpered, black tears falling from his eyes.
Miyuki dropped her weapon, arms wide.
— "My darling... I'm here. I'll never hurt you—"
The dagger pierced her heart.
Silence.
Arashi blinked. His hand held the tanto. His mother's blood dripped from his fingers, still warm.
— "M-Mom... Why..."
Miyuki collapsed, pulling her son into one final embrace.
— "This... is not you..." she gasped, her lips brushing the crescent-shaped scar on his forehead — the mark of a fall in the garden, which she had tended for hours.
Her last breath was a smile.
— "I love you... My little samurai..."
Behind them, the Nine Clans exulted.
— "Look, Takeshi! Your heir is perfect!"
The father, wounded, crawled toward them.
— "Arashi... Listen to me..."
But the rune pulsed again.
The dagger rose, guided by the laughter of the Clans.
Takeshi made no resistance. He took his son's face in his hands, even as the blade pierced his heart.
— "You... are... free..." he murmured as he collapsed.
Arashi remained kneeling, his hands covered in his parents' blood. On the ground, the torn kite trembled in the wind, its golden cranes stained red.
The woman with white hair approached, stroking his hair.
— "Welcome to the truth, little monster. You were born for this."
As the darkness took him, Arashi heard his mother's voice one last time, soft and distant:
— "Don't forget... Cranes always fly toward the light..."