The morning sun rose like it always did.
Soft golden light touched the hills in the distance and bathed the old farmer's house in warmth. Birds chirped in the trees, fluttering between leaves, as if nothing had changed.
But something had.
And the blood hadn't dried yet.
I stood outside the house, staring at the half-open door. My feet were frozen in place. I didn't remember walking back here. I didn't remember unsheathing my blade. It just hung in my hand, limp.
The door creaked slowly with the breeze. It wasn't locked. It had been forced open. Splintered. Clawed.
I took one breath, then stepped inside.
The scent hit me hard. Blood, smoke, iron. My stomach turned, but I swallowed it down and moved deeper in.
The first thing I saw was Genjiro.
He lay face-down on the floor near the doorway, one arm twisted beneath him. His body was crushed. Ribs broken through his back. His other arm stretched toward the room his family had slept in.
My hands shook.
I didn't want to see more. But I had to.
I pushed open the door where my family had slept that night.
Father was just inside. His back was slashed open, deep wounds carved through his body. He had his blade drawn. The tip was broken, and the hilt had blood on it—not his.
He fought.
But whatever attacked him wasn't something a man could handle.
I saw Mother.
I dropped to my knees beside her.
My hand reached out, trembling, and brushed her hair back. Cold. Lifeless.
I couldn't hold it in. My vision blurred. My jaw clenched.
The weight in my chest was too much.
But there were more.
I moved slowly to the other room.
Natsu was near the wall, her body limp, eyes wide open. She had fallen beside Haru. The little girl was unrecognizable at first... her small body torn, a trail of blood painting the floor beneath her.
Her favorite ribbon lay beside her. Somehow still clean. Still tied.
The hallway creaked behind me.
I turned.
Where Ichiro had been sleeping the night before… there wasn't much left.
His travel cloak was torn to shreds. Blood stained the hallway floor. His short sword was shattered, the hilt still stabbed into the wooden planks.
And just beyond that… a pair of legs. Ripped apart at the knees. One hand, fingers twisted and missing nails. That was all.
No body.
No trail.
Just torn remains.
My stomach churned. I turned and vomited against the wall. My hands pressed into the floor as I tried to breathe, but the air was thick and choking.
Eight people had slept under this roof last night.
Now only one was alive.
I stumbled outside, barely keeping my footing.
The sunlight was too bright. Too warm for this.
I collapsed onto the ground and stared at the dirt.
Why?
Why was I gone? Why did I survive?
I had only gone to train. I only wanted to tire myself out.
My fingers clenched into fists.
I knew what I had to do. I couldn't leave them like this.
Behind the house, I found a small patch of open land. I took a rusted shovel leaning against the shed and started digging.
The earth was hard. Each stroke burned my arms and tore my skin, but I didn't stop.
I buried Genjiro first, beside Natsu and Haru. I placed Haru's ribbon on a stick and pushed it into the soil.
Then my mother. I folded her hands and placed a flower beside her.
Then Hina. I tied a strand of her hair with a ribbon and wrapped her carefully.
Father came last. I drove the broken half of his blade into the ground, like a gravestone.
Ichiro...
I placed his hand and legs into the earth gently. I wrapped his shredded cloak around them. There wasn't enough to bury properly.
But I still whispered a prayer.
When the burials were done, I sat in silence.
The wind moved gently through the trees. The incense I found inside burned low beside the graves, sending up quiet streams of smoke.
I stared at the soil until the light faded.
Then I stood.
I had no answers. No enemy to fight. No name to curse.
But I knew one thing:
I couldn't go back home.
Not yet.
To Be Continued…