They didn't just despise him.
They needed him to break.
When they couldn't reach him, they reached for the one thing he held closest.
It began quietly.
The morning after the ox vanished, the village gathered — not with mourning or prayer, but with cold, hard purpose. No sorrow crossed their faces. Only a hunger long kept hidden, a cruel resolve honed over years.
They came armed with ropes, stones, knives, and eyes sharp with accusation.
They came for Aria Tsuki.
And they forced Rai to see.
They pulled him from his sleep — tiny legs stumbling, mouth open in confusion but silent. His mother wrapped herself around him, her arms a fragile shield, whispering, "Stay calm, Rai. Don't be afraid."
They tore her away.
They lashed him to a post in the centre of the village square.His feet dangled.His hands could not reach her.
Then, they started.
Day One:They stripped Aria bare and doused her in freezing water until her lips lost their colour.They spat on her prayers.They struck her, laughing at her pain, calling it cleansing.
Rai screamed until his voice broke.He wept until he was sick.But they pressed on.
"Watch closely, Ashspawn," they hissed."See what your curse brings."
Day Two:They crushed her fingers, one agonizing break after another.They vowed she'd never heal again.
Her back blackened under the lash, salted and whipped again.
Rai tore at his bindings, wrists raw and bleeding.He begged to stop. Promised to disappear.They threatened silence, or worse — the removal of her voice.
Day Three:They spat in her mouth, shorn her hair, beat her face until one eye swelled shut.
Rai's screams faded into silence.He trembled, broken.Watching his world unravel.
Day Four:They made him kneel beside her.He heard her soft, cracked whispers: "It's alright… it's alright…"
She smiled for him, still.Even when fire kissed her arm.Even when a rock crushed her foot.Even when they burned the cursed mark onto her belly.
Her only question whispered through pain:"Is Rai still breathing?"
Day Five:They hung her by her arms all night in the cold.When she collapsed, they kicked her awake.
Rai sat motionless in the snow.His black eyes hollow,Not crying, not shouting —Just watching.
A ghost trapped inside a child.
Day Six:Dragged by her hair through the dirt.Forced to crawl, beg forgiveness.They made Rai speak the lies after them:
"She is a sinner.She bore a curse."
He couldn't say it.So they struck her harder.
Day Seven:She was broken beyond bearing.Speechless.They tied her to the sacred post,Kept Rai away, ten steps.
Then they said:"Today, it ends."
He looked at her.
A body shattered.A face worn and nearly lost.Twisted fingers, bloodied feet, torn clothes, cracked lips.
And still…She looked at him.And she smiled.
Through every wound — she smiled.
"Rai… my moonlight…It's almost over…"
Then the roar shattered the silence.
This was Rai Tsuki's birth.
Not from power alone.Not from hate alone.But from the unbearable memory of watching the one he loved die — while the world laughed.
The gods looked away.The village stood silent.
And from that day forward, Rai swore:One day, they would know what true pain means.