"When the moon turns red and shadows rise,
A child will be born with the mark of light.
He shall carry sorrow, fire, and fate—
The key to peace, or the end of all.
One will leave him, one will raise him,
And one will try to end him before he grows."
The moon was ablaze in red.
Over the valley of Yumeno, a rare eclipse covered the night sky. The red light touched every house and every tree, turning shadows into strange shapes. Inside their homes, people whispered old prayers. The elders remembered stories—how red moons brought sorrow and bad luck.
A woman ran through the forest.
Her feet hit the ground hard. Branches scratched her arms and face. Her breath was fast and rough, but she didn't stop. In her arms, wrapped in an old quilt, was a newborn baby. The baby didn't cry. His eyes were wide, staring up at the red moon.
The woman reached a stone temple hidden deep in the woods. She fell to her knees at the steps, holding the baby close. Behind her, strange sounds echoed through the trees—growls, whispers, something dark chasing her.
She looked at the baby with tears in her eyes. "My sweet Asahi," she said softly. "You must live. No matter what happens to me…"
She took a small red talisman from her neck and placed it inside the blanket. Then she touched a strange mark on the baby's shoulder—a crescent shape, like a half-moon. It glowed for just a second. Her tears fell as she kissed the baby's forehead one last time.
The sounds behind her grew louder. The shadows moved closer.
She placed the baby at the temple door and stood up. With one last look, she ran back into the forest. The trees swallowed her, and the darkness took her in.
Inside the old temple, a light flickered.
A priest named Tomo slowly opened the door, holding a lantern. When he saw the baby lying there, he froze. The child was calm and quiet. The red light from the moon made the birthmark on his shoulder glow again.
Tomo bent down and picked him up. He felt something strange in the air—like power hiding under the baby's skin.
"A child born under a crimson moon," Tomo whispered. "Your life will not be easy."
He carried the baby inside. On the ground behind him was a small piece of cloth. One word was written on it:
Asahi.
And so began the story of the Crimson Child—left alone, chosen by the moon, and marked by fate.