Tobio knelt in the dirt, his body battered, blood seeping from countless wounds. His breaths were shallow, ragged gasps as he stared at the ground, unable to lift himself. Above him loomed Susanoo-no-Mikoto, the self-proclaimed God of Shinobi, his towering form illuminated by the faint glow of his divine blade.
The edge of the blade pressed against Tobio's neck, cold and unyielding. Tobio's vision blurred, but he could still see the faint reflection of his broken form in the polished steel.
"You're a fucking fool, Tobio," Susanoo said, his voice low and venomous. "Chasing after a ghost, defying gods, and for what? Heikō is gone. He's not coming back. You're clinging to a dream that's already turned to ash."
Tobio coughed, a splatter of blood landing in the dirt. His hands twitched at his sides, powerless to do anything but listen.
"And now," Susanoo continued, his tone growing colder, "I'll ensure that everyone knows it. I am the God of Shinobi now. Heikō's legacy belongs to me, and you, Tobio? You're nothing. Just a pathetic mortal who didn't know when to quit."
Despite the pain coursing through his body, Tobio let out a weak laugh. It was hoarse and broken, but it cut through the silence like a dagger.
"Fuck you," he spat, his voice filled with defiance.
Susanoo's eyes narrowed. "What did you say?"
"I said fuck you, you arrogant piece of shit," Tobio hissed, forcing himself to meet Susanoo's gaze. "You'll never be what Heikō was. You're just a power-hungry asshole playing dress-up as a god. You think killing me will make you the God of Shinobi? It won't. You'll never be anything but a fraud."
Susanoo's jaw tightened, his grip on the blade firm. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to?"
Tobio smirked, though it was weak. "Yeah, I know exactly who you are. A coward."
Susanoo's blade twitched, the pressure against Tobio's neck increasing.
Before the killing blow came, Susanoo's gaze shifted. His attention was drawn to a figure standing at the edge of the battlefield—a woman.
Haruka.
She stood frozen, her hands clasped over her mouth, her eyes wide with terror. Tears streamed down her face as she took in the sight of her husband on his knees, bloodied and defeated.
Tobio followed Susanoo's gaze, his heart breaking at the sight of her. She didn't deserve this. None of them did.
"Haruka…" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
Her lips trembled, and she took a hesitant step forward, but Susanoo's glare stopped her in her tracks.
Tobio mustered the last of his strength, forcing a small, weak smile. It wasn't much, but it was all he could give her.
"Take care of the kids," he said softly, his voice cracking. "Tell them… Tell them I love them."
Haruka shook her head violently, her sobs breaking through the silence. "No! No, please! Don't do this!"
Susanoo raised his blade, his expression cold and merciless.
"This is the end, Tobio," he said, his voice like stone.
Tobio closed his eyes, that faint smile still on his lips. "See you on the other side."
The blade came down.
Haruka collapsed to her knees as Susanoo vanished, his task complete. The battlefield was silent now, save for the sound of her anguished sobs.
Tobio's lifeless body lay motionless in the dirt, his blood pooling around him. Haruka crawled to him, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch his face. His skin was cold, his once warm and strong presence now gone.
"No… no…" she whispered, her voice breaking. "Tobio… please… don't leave me."
She cradled his head in her lap, her tears falling onto his bloodied face. She rocked back and forth, her mind reeling with the reality of what had just happened.
He was gone.
Back in the village, Haruka stood in the doorway of their home, her face pale and her eyes red from crying. Aiko and Kenta sat on the floor, their innocent faces lighting up when they saw her.
"Mommy!" Aiko chirped, running toward her.
Haruka dropped to her knees, pulling her daughter into a tight embrace. Kenta joined them, his brow furrowed in concern.
"Where's Dad?" he asked, his voice tentative.
Haruka's throat tightened, and she struggled to find the words. How could she tell them? How could she make them understand?
"He's…" Her voice broke, and she pulled them both closer. "Daddy's not coming back."
Aiko's face scrunched in confusion. "What do you mean? Where is he?"
Haruka's sobs came uncontrollably now, and she buried her face in her hands. "He's… gone, sweetie. He… he fought so hard, but he didn't make it."
Kenta's eyes widened, his hands balling into fists. "What do you mean he didn't make it? Who did this?!"
Haruka shook her head, her voice trembling. "He was protecting us… protecting everyone. He was so brave, but…" She couldn't finish the sentence.
Aiko began to cry, her small hands clutching Haruka's shirt. "I want Daddy!"
Haruka held her tightly, her own tears falling freely. "I know, baby. I know. I want him too."
Kenta stood, his fists still clenched, his young face twisted with anger and rage. "I'll make them pay. Whoever did this I'll make them pay."
"No!"
Haruka's voice cracked as she reached out and grabbed Kenta's arm, stopping him in his tracks. "No, Kenta. You're not going to fight. You're not going to throw your life away like your father did. He wouldn't want that."
Kenta froze, his anger wavering as he looked down at her. Tears streamed down his face now, his brave façade crumbling. "But, Mom… he's gone. He's gone because of them! We can't just do nothing!"
Haruka rose shakily to her feet, her body trembling. "I know you're angry. I know it hurts. But you're still just a child. Your father gave his life so you wouldn't have to fight. Don't make his sacrifice meaningless."
Kenta's shoulders slumped, his head hanging low as his tears fell freely. Aiko clung to Haruka, sobbing uncontrollably, her small voice repeating, "I want Daddy… I want Daddy…"
Haruka knelt back down, pulling both of her children into her arms. "Listen to me," she whispered, her voice raw and choked with emotion. "Your dad loved you both more than anything in this world. He fought because he believed in a future for you—a future where you wouldn't have to live in fear. We have to honor him by living. By being the family he wanted us to be."
The three of them stayed like that for a long time, huddled together on the floor, their shared grief filling the small house.
The news of Tobio's death spread quickly through Arakusa. The shinobi he had trained and fought beside stood in solemn silence as Haruka delivered the truth. Her voice shook, but she spoke with a quiet strength that commanded respect.
"Tobio is gone," she said, her words heavy with finality. "He gave everything to protect us. To find a way to bring Heikō back. But in the end, there was nothing left for him to give."
The gathered shinobi exchanged looks of grief and guilt. They had wanted to fight alongside Tobio, but he had forbidden it. Now, they had to live with the weight of his sacrifice.
"He was more than a shinobi," Haruka continued, her voice breaking slightly. "He was a husband. A father. And a man who believed in something greater than himself. Don't let his death be in vain."
The crowd murmured their agreement, heads bowing in respect. Haruka's words carried a sense of finality that hung heavy in the air.
After the village had quieted down, Haruka sat alone in the darkness of their home. The children had finally cried themselves to sleep, their small bodies exhausted from the day's events.
Haruka stared at the flickering candle on the table, her hands clutching a small, worn photograph of their family. It was taken before everything had gone to hell—before Tobio had been consumed by his mission to find Heikō.
She traced her fingers over his face in the picture, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks. "You promised me," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You promised you'd come back."
The house was silent, save for the occasional crackle of the candle. The absence of Tobio's presence was suffocating, the weight of his loss pressing down on her chest like a boulder.
But even in her grief, Haruka knew she couldn't fall apart. Not now. Not with two children who needed her more than ever. She wiped her tears and set the photograph down gently.
"Rest now, Tobio," she whispered. "We'll keep going. Somehow, we'll keep going."
As the candle flickered out, plunging the room into darkness, Haruka sat silently, her resolve hardening. For her children. For the village. And for the memory of the man she had loved with all her heart.