Pain.
That was the first thing he felt, an unbearable soreness creeping through his limbs.
His body lay half-submerged in a stream, clothes damp and heavy. The cold bit through him, though the sun blazed overhead.
His eyes fluttered open. The sunlight pierced his vision. He raised an arm which was bruised, red and trembling to shield himself from the brightness.
'Where am I?'
The boy tried to move, but hunger twisted his insides, and his legs didn't obey. His body shivered violently as his teeth chattered despite the daylight.
Water trickled past his skin, carrying away flecks of blood.
He sat up slowly, his movements sluggish. His long, green hair clung to his face like wet grass. He brushed it aside.
And then he saw it.
A castle was in front of him, massive and proud.
It was aflame with a vibrant blaze.
One of its towers was crumbling beneath a massive boulder lodged in its side. Smoke curled into the sky as though it were escaping the tower's clutches.
The ground in front of him was painted red like it was a canva.
Men and horses, clad in armor, lay lifeless. Weapons were shattered. Helmets cracked. Blood pooled into the earth, staining it forever.
His lips trembled.
'What happened here…? Was I here too?'
In the distance, a lone rider moved among the dead.
He was a tall man, elegant yet terrifying in black armor streaked with crimson. A golden halberd rested in his hand, gleaming even in shadow.
The man leaned from horseback, stabbing the corpses one by one, ensuring no enemies rose again.
The boy's eyes widened.
The man's face, half-revealed beneath a dented helmet, was lined with scars. His horse, a sleek creature wrapped in chainmail, moved gracefully, an instrument of death and beauty.
A rifle and two thin swords were strapped to its side. The boy stared at them,
Then, the man's gaze fell on him.
Their eyes met.
The boy gasped.
Panic surged in his chest. He tried to crawl back, but his legs betrayed him again. Tears streamed down his face.
'I can't move. He's going to kill me. I'm going to die here.'
The horse trotted toward him.
The boy whimpered, shielding his face.
Then, a voice boomed, not cruel, but deep and composed.
"Wait. I am not to harm children. That is the daimyo's command. Stop moving. Tell me your name."
The boy froze.
He looked up slowly.
The man was closer now, his presence like a mountain. His voice wasn't warm, but it wasn't cold either.
The boy didn't respond. He couldn't. His lips were numb.
The man extended an arm and scooped him onto the horse.
His armor was rough, soaked with blood and sweat. But those hands, scarred and strong lifted the boy gently.
"By the grace of the divine emperor…" the man whispered. "A divine child. Green hair. Golden eyes. You… you are blessed by the heavens."
'Golden…?'
The boy blinked, seeing his reflection in the man's shoulder plate.
Golden eyes stared back at him.
He clung to the armor, too exhausted to speak.
The horse galloped away from the battlefield, its hooves striking the earth like thunder. The wind brushed against the boy's face. His heart beat faster as he enjoyed the exhilarating ride.
He glanced at the horse again.
Despite the situation, he couldn't help but marvel at its beauty. Its strong legs and lustrous coat.
When they finally arrived, it was at a castle far more majestic than the one left in ruins.
Tall dark wooden towers. Crimson banners. Dozens of guards.
The man dismounted, gently lifting the boy again. The horse nuzzled the child's face and licked him softly.
A chuckle escaped the man. "He likes you."
He removed the horse's armor and stroked its coat. "Rest well, Benimaru. You've earned it."
Holding the boy's hand, the man stepped into the castle's gates. The boy looked up, eyes wide, chest pounding.
Everything here reeked of power.
A soldier approached. His chest was armored, but a red kimono flowed beneath it. He bowed.
"Yori-sama. Your father awaits in the conference hall with Lady Akiko. He said to meet him immediately."
Yori nodded, his expression unreadable.
They walked through the stone halls. Eyes turned toward them.
'Why are they all looking at me…?'
They reached a great double door.
Yori removed his weapons and helmet, handing them to a maid in a red kimono. She bowed deeply.
Another woman opened the doors.
Yori entered. The boy remained just outside.
Inside, a tall man sat at the head of the room, his presence massive.
Jet-black hair starting to grey at the sides. Stoic eyes. He looked almost identical to Yori, but older. They both had a bit of a toad like dumpy face. His voice rang loud:
"Yori. You return early. That's good."
Beside him sat a serene woman, Lady Akiko, her beauty graceful and her smile gentle.
Yori bowed. "Father. I return with great news. A divine child has been found."
The entire room stilled.
Whispers. Gasps. Then silence.
"A divine child?" the older man repeated.
"Yes. Green hair. Golden eyes. And he survived that massacre."
Kaito, the daimyo of the southern realm, leader of the Akagi clan, stood from his chair.
His voice deepened. "Bring him in."
Yori stepped out and brought the boy into the hall.
Dozens of noblemen and advisors turned to look. Their eyes burned with awe.
The boy shrank, overwhelmed by attention.
"What is your name, child?" Kaito asked, his tone sharp.
The boy looked down. His lips moved, but no words came out.
"I… I don't remember…"
He searched his mind, but it was like staring into a void.
Akiko stood. Her voice was softer.
"He's terrified, Kaito. Let me speak to him."
She knelt before the boy.
"It's alright. You're safe now. Do you remember anything? Anyone?"
The boy shook his head.
Whispers returned. Someone muttered, "He has no memories. He's a blank slate…"
But others grinned, they were excited.
"Even better," Kaito declared. "This child, untouched by past allegiances… molded by our hands… He is the answer we've been waiting for."
He stepped forward and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"In this hall, before all nobles, generals, and vassals, I, Akagi Kaito noh Gorou, declare this divine child my son."
Gasps erupted.
Yori's eyes widened.
Akiko clutched her chest, stunned.
The boy looked up, confused. 'Son…?'
Kaito raised his voice. "He shall be raised as a samurai. He shall wield my bloodline's honor and the heavens' gift. Let it be known this boy's name is…"
He looked at the child, and a rare smile touched his lips.
"Haruto. Like the rising sun."
The crowd bowed.
"Long live Akagi Haruto!"
The boy didn't understand the words. Not fully. Not yet.
But the warmth of the room…the smiles… the strength of the hand on his shoulder…
It stirred something in him.
'Maybe… I'm not alone anymore.'
But as his eyes dimmed from exhaustion, a flicker of something surfaced.
A flash of fire.
A scream.
A dying woman calling a name.
The boy staggered.
Kaito caught him. "Careful."
Haruto nodded.
But deep in the pit of his soul… something dark pulsed.
Buried.
Watching.
Waiting.