My name is Hiru. I am the child of a distant relative of the Tsugikuni Clan. After my father left one day and never came back, and when our rice jar at home finally ran dry, my mother decided to take me—barely over a year old at the time—to seek refuge with this distant relative.
But on our way to the Tsugikuni Clan, we encountered bandits. Luckily, we came across a patrol from the Tsugikuni household and narrowly survived.
My mother, however, was injured while protecting me. By the time we reached the Tsugikuni Clan, her wound had worsened beyond saving. After entrusting me to them and leaving her final words, she died from her illness.
So, as a young child, I was adopted into the household of this clan leader, becoming his third son. I abandoned my original surname and became Tsugikuni Hiru.
Only later did I learn that my birth mother was the cousin of my new mother. Because of that connection, I was able to be adopted so smoothly into the Tsugikuni Clan as their third son. Akeno—my new mother—told me all of this when I was a little older.
She also told me that my birth mother had exchanged her own life to give me the chance to live. She asked me to cherish myself, because my life was no longer just my own—I was carrying my mother's share as well.
Akeno repeated this to me countless times, never tiring of it.
To outsiders, Akeno might have seemed overly talkative, but I actually loved hearing her voice. When she spoke, there was a gentle, calming strength in her words. For me—new to this environment, lost and uneasy—it brought a sense of peace.
My new father was completely different. He kept telling me that I was now a child of the Tsugikuni Clan, that I must be loyal to the clan, support my eldest brother, and, when the time came, even die for him. According to him, that was the very purpose of the family's third son.
I could feel the disgust and contempt in his tone. I also knew he had only reluctantly allowed me to take the name Tsugikuni Hiru and live here as an adopted son because Akeno had asked him to.
Still, although my new father was harsh, the two brothers he mentioned were as gentle as my new mother.
They were twins. The elder brother was Tsugikuni Michikatsu; the younger was Tsugikuni Yoriichi.
Brother Michikatsu liked to imitate our father, always wearing a stern face. Yet his heart wasn't bad at all. He cared for Yoriichi and me in his own awkward way, even if it meant getting beaten by Father. He was stubborn, awkward, but also very kind.
Brother Yoriichi, however, was a strange person.
He resembled Michikatsu in appearance, but his face bore a vivid, flame-like birthmark, and the tips of his hair were dyed a striking red. His features were gentle, but his presence was striking.
He was easy to get along with, always carrying a sense of quiet acceptance toward everything. Yet aside from Akeno, nearly everyone in the clan saw him as an ill-omened child.
My new father—his actual father—was the prime example. He allowed me, the adopted son, to live in a side room, but confined Yoriichi to a cramped attic and forbade him from seeing anyone.
I too found Yoriichi strange, but not because of his appearance or the rumors about twins being cursed. It was because his eyes always seemed empty.
Often, when he looked at someone, it felt as though he wasn't really looking at them, but rather through them at something far away. His gaze was always confused and unfocused.
It was in this new family that I grew up safely to the age of three.
By then, I could barely remember my birth mother's face. I only faintly remembered her as strict yet gentle. My memories of her were down to two things.
One was the desperate look on her face as she shielded me from the bandits.
The other was her tearful eyes as she held my hand before she died, repeating over and over that I must not forget the kindness of the Tsugikuni family who would raise me, that I must grow up with a grateful heart and repay them someday.
I didn't understand the meaning of her words back then, but I knew she was a good person. It just seemed that in this world, good people didn't live long.
It might sound strange, but I could see it—when someone was about to die, a black shadow would appear behind them. When that shadow formed their face, that person would die.
It was the same with my father. Before he left, a thick shadow loomed behind him, and he never returned. If only I had understood my ability back then, maybe everything would be different now.
My mother also carried a shadow before she died. As she drew her final breath, that shadow formed her face. Its shape became clear as it gazed at me with sorrow before fading away. That was the first time I realized what I could do.
I never liked this ability. I only mention it now because I saw the shadow again—this time behind Akeno. It followed her everywhere, and as its face became clearer, her body grew weaker.
I didn't know how to get rid of it. All I could do was be more obedient and study harder. Every time I brought back excellent grades, Akeno would smile, and the shadow's face would blur a little.
As long as the shadow didn't develop a clear face, Akeno could stay alive—or so I believed.
But every time I showed good grades, my new father would scold me harshly, accusing me of plotting against the Tsugikuni Clan, and his mood would worsen.
Even so, I wanted Akeno to live more than anything. Even if it meant being yelled at, I wanted to see her smile.
Yoriichi seemed to see it too. In his rare moments outside, he would always find Akeno quickly and cling to her left leg. Whenever he did, the shadow would blur a little more.
But every time Father saw Yoriichi leaning on Akeno, he would explode with anger. Today was no different.
[How many times have I told you! You unlucky child, stop appearing before me! Your mother Akeno is already in poor health—stop making things worse! Get back to your room!]
I watched as sorrow filled Yoriichi's eyes. He pursed his lips and let go, but Akeno caught his hand. Ignoring Father's rage, she pointed toward me and spoke gently:
[Yoriichi, I'm sorry. Mom has something to handle right now. Could you go play with Hiru for a while?]
I watched Brother Yoriichi walk toward me, but my eyes stayed fixed on the shadow behind Akeno, growing clearer and clearer.
Please, no. Don't become any clearer.
Yoriichi led me away, but at the corner, I stopped him, still staring at Akeno.
Yoriichi clearly shared my worry. The two of us stayed quietly in the corner, watching Father and Mother face off.
It was the first time I'd ever seen Mother angry. Her face was calm, but her voice was sharp and full of blame. Father just stood there, head turned, silent and frozen.
For a moment in my sight, Mother overlapped with the shadow behind her.
Please, don't take my mother away again.
[Don't cry, Hiru.]
Yoriichi's voice was gentle, easing my fear and anxiety.
[Brother… Mother is dying.]
[…I know.]
[Brother, can you see it too?]
[Yes, I can.]
[Then… will you always stay by my side?]
I don't remember what he said after that. I only remember his hand gently patting my head, the warmth of his palm bringing comfort and reassurance.