Yujiro sat amidst the wreckage of his home and the unbearable stench of death. The sword in his hand was still dripping with that black sludge, while the red aura slowly faded from his body, leaving him in a bone-chilling cold like never before. Suddenly, a sound he never expected pierced the mountain silence.
It was a soft, innocent voice, humming a faint, ancient melody... It was Hana, his cousin, coming up the mountain path carrying a basket of supplies.
She pushed the open door with a warm smile, but the smile vanished before a single word could escape her lips. The basket fell from her hand, and the fruits rolled across the blood-stained floor, mixing the colors of life with the colors of ruin.
Yujiro sat at the center of that massacre, his face smeared with blood, his eyes—red from weeping and rage—making him look like a stranger. Hana did not see the monster that had melted and vanished; she saw only her cousin holding a dripping sword beside his mother's head.
"Hana... wait..." his voice came out raspy, as he tried to heave his exhausted body up.
But the terror in Hana's eyes was beyond any logic. She covered her mouth with her hand and let out a piercing scream that shook the surrounding pine trees. She turned and fled frantically toward the village, leaving Yujiro reaching out toward the void—orphaned twice; once by his family, and once by the trust of those he loved.
Minutes had barely passed before heavy footsteps and the shouting of men cut through the mountain's silence. The village guards burst into the house with their weapons drawn, led by a trembling Hana who pointed inside in shock.
The captain saw the scene and recoiled at its horror. "My God... what kind of demon are you?"
"Drop the sword! Now!" the captain roared, his voice shaking more with fear than authority.
The sword slipped from Yujiro's trembling hand, hitting the floor with a funereal metallic clang. He didn't try to resist; his heart was already shattered. In the next moment, they lunged at him. Kicks and the butts of spears rained down on his weary body as he was dragged across the blood of his family.
"Monster... how could you have the heart?" one guard spat cruelly, tightening the shackles on his bleeding wrists.
Yujiro tried to speak, to scream that the monster had been there, that the beast was to blame, but the blood filling his mouth and the weakness invading his body failed him. He looked at Hana one last time, searching for a shred of doubt in her eyes, but found nothing but revulsion.
He muttered in a faint voice before fading into unconsciousness: "I... I didn't kill them..."
Yujiro drowned in darkness, bound by iron and betrayal, while fire burned in his heart—a fire that neither the village's tears nor their future apologies would ever extinguish.