Three months had passed since Kaizen and Itsuro escaped into the frozen continent. The harsh winds had become a constant companion, whispering their secrets through the jagged peaks. Snow blanketed the land in an endless sea of white, stretching to the horizon, where the mountains clawed at the sky like ancient, frozen beasts.
Through this desolation, they had wandered—two men cursed by demons, carrying burdens that even time could not heal.
Their bodies should have collapsed from the weight of their wounds and the corruption festering within them. But fate had other plans.
A village. A sanctuary hidden in the icy embrace of the mountains.
Here, the people lived in harmony, untouched by the violence of the outside world. The houses, built from sturdy timber and stone, huddled together like a family against the cold. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, carrying the scent of warm broth and burning wood.
It was the first time in years that Kaizen and Itsuro had felt something resembling peace.
The villagers, wary at first, had welcomed them with open arms once they saw their suffering. The elders, wise and aged by countless winters, sensed the dark forces within them and immediately took action.
They worked to slow the effects of the snake demon inside Kaizen and the 100 million demons writhing inside Itsuro.
The rituals were painful, but necessary. The elders spoke in hushed prayers, their voices carrying the weight of old magic. They burned sacred herbs, etched ancient symbols into the frozen ground, and pressed their hands to Kaizen and Itsuro's chests, drawing out the poison inch by inch.
For the first time since his possession, Kaizen felt the snake's grip loosen—if only slightly.
Yet, something far more unexpected happened in this village.
He met Sakura.
A Bond Forged in Snow
She was no older than six, with bright, curious eyes and a laugh that melted the ice in his heart.
The first time she saw Kaizen, she did not shy away in fear like others had.
She ran up to him, holding a small wooden carving of a fox in her tiny hands.
"Are you a samurai?" she had asked, tilting her head.
Kaizen knelt before her, his crimson eyes locking onto hers. "No," he said, voice softer than he had intended. "I am something else."
Sakura beamed. "You look strong! You should have this."
She placed the wooden fox in his palm, her fingers brushing against his.
Kaizen stared at the gift, unsure of what to say. In all his years, no one had ever given him something so pure, so undeserved.
He clenched his fist around the small carving. "Thank you."
From that moment on, Sakura followed him everywhere.
She would sit beside him during the rituals, watching in fascination as the elders worked to suppress the demons inside him. She would tug at his sleeve, demanding he tell her stories of the battles he had fought.
At first, Kaizen had been reluctant.
But her persistence wore him down.
Soon, he found himself telling her tales—ones not drenched in blood, but in adventure.
He spoke of distant lands, mighty warriors, and battles against creatures that lurked in the shadows.
For the first time in years, Kaizen laughed.
A Mother's Gaze
Sakura's mother, Aoi, was a woman of quiet beauty.
Long, raven-black hair. Eyes the color of deep forests. A warmth in her gaze that Kaizen had long forgotten existed.
The first time she saw him, her heart had stopped.
There was something about him—something dangerous, yet undeniably captivating.
When he had knelt before Sakura, speaking gently to her, Aoi knew she was lost.
It was foolish. Reckless.
But she had fallen for him at first sight.
She watched as he protected her daughter from the cold, as he humored her endless questions. She saw the way his eyes softened around Sakura, the way his walls crumbled piece by piece.
And she knew.
Kaizen was a man who had lost something—something he had been searching for without realizing it.
Aoi did not speak of her feelings. She did not push.
Instead, she waited.
Watched.
Hoped.
The Demons Stir
But peace was an illusion.
The demons inside Kaizen and Itsuro were not pleased.
They had spent years growing, festering, whispering their poison into their hosts' minds.
And now?
The village elders were interfering.
They were weakening the demons' grasp.
The snake inside Kaizen coiled tighter, its voice slithering into his thoughts.
"You grow soft, Kaizen."
He clenched his jaw, standing alone on the outskirts of the village, watching the snowfall.
"This village has made you weak."
Kaizen exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air. "No," he whispered. "I am only resting."
"Resting? Or forgetting who you are?"
The demon's voice dripped with venom.
"You were feared. Respected. A hunter of men. And now? You are a father to a child who is not yours. You are loved by a woman who will only betray you. Have you learned nothing?"
Kaizen closed his eyes, his grip tightening on the wooden fox.
"I will not be erased."
A sharp pain lanced through his body.
The snake was fighting back.
Kaizen dropped to one knee, his vision blurring.
"I see it now," the demon hissed. "The elders are trying to erase me. You are letting them take me away. Do you not see? Without me, you are nothing. You need me."
Kaizen gritted his teeth.
He had spent years fighting, clawing his way through darkness.
Was the demon right?
Would he be nothing without it?
A small hand touched his shoulder.
He snapped his head up—his vision clearing—and saw Sakura standing beside him.
She smiled.
"You look sad," she said. "I don't like it when you're sad."
Kaizen stared at her.
The demon inside him snarled.
"This is your weakness."
Kaizen reached out and ruffled Sakura's hair.
"Don't worry," he murmured. "I'm not going anywhere."
But even as he spoke the words, he knew—
The demons would not allow this peace to last, but I will fight.