Since the earliest records of human civilizations, humanity has looked upward, towards the vast sky that looked down on them. Forces far greater than themselves surrounded them. The mighty rivers, towering mountains, the Sun, the stars. They became our first 'Gods'. The divine forces that protected us, but shouldn't be angered, as their wrath can be disastrous.
Time marched forward. Humanity's reverence, however, extended far beyond the familiar. Beyond sky and sea, beyond even the natural world. Some of the choices being… quite unusual.
"Ryuu-no-kami?"
(Dragon God?)
I asked, looking up at the painting of the majestic creature on the wall.
"Yes."
My parents knelt beside me, gesturing for me to do the same before the sacred image. In worship of our 'god'.
Hyoudou Issei, 4 years old.
… My family revered an unusual god.
****
A peculiar fox mask has become increasingly popular at festivals throughout Japan. Unlike the traditional smiling kitsune, this mask bears a dark and almost sinister expression, its exposed teeth showing unbridled fury.
Its edgy appearance has made it particularly popular among children and teenagers, who wear it as an interesting festival prop. Yet despite its sudden rise in popularity over the past decade, almost no one seems to know the actual story behind it.
It goes as follows…
Long, long ago, God Inari, the god of harvest, asked his three most distinguished messengers to go out on an expedition into the human world and return with tales from the distant lands. The messenger who returned with the greatest tale would be rewarded. The time allotted for their journey, however, was only a year.
The three messengers thus set out on the journey.
To avoid returning with similar tales, they divided the world between themselves. One traveled south, another north, and the last journeyed west.
A year passed.
The one who traveled North arrived first, returning a day before the appointed date. He spoke eagerly of the distant stars that filled unfamiliar skies, of dreams and warmth, and of the fascinating lands and adventures he had encountered in the far north.
The one who travelled south arrived second, on the day the journey was meant to end, his eyes weary from exhaustion. He spoke of his journey through vast deserts and unforgiving wilderness, of lands where the harshest conditions stood alongside remarkable beauty.
Inari listened to their tales with great interest and eagerly awaited the return of the final messenger. However, the appointed day passed without his arrival. God Inari waited; days became weeks, and weeks became months. Eventually, his patience ran thin, and he decided to search for the missing messenger himself.
God Inari travelled west in search of the missing messenger. After days and nights of travel he finally reached a distant land. There, to his fury, he discovered that the missing fox had abandoned his duty and was masquerading as a god.
During his journey, the messenger had discovered a powerful treasure and had gained immense abilities from it. Rather than return to Inari with his discovery, he chose to remain among the people, flaunting his newfound power and becoming drunk on the fear and admiration he received from the masses.
A furious Inari dragged his fallen messenger back to the divine realm and sentenced him to a hundred years of imprisonment.
The vengeful fox hid his fury and resentment behind a smiling mask, patiently waiting for the day his punishment would end.
When his century of imprisonment finally ended, the fox escaped once more into the human world, far beyond Inari's watchful eyes.
During his travels, whenever he came across a settlement, he would ask the people there:
"Would you worship me?"
Those who refused or even showed hesitation met their end at his hands. Countless settlements were reduced to ashes under his fury. The rumors about a mad deity spread far and wide. People began offering sacrifices in hopes of being spared. The rampage continued until God Inari finally descended once more, putting an end to the fox's reign of terror with his own hands.
…
They say that statues of the evil entity can still be found in remote places throughout Japan, lending some credibility to the old legend.
One statue in particular, however, stands out. During daylight, it appears to be nothing more than any other smiling kitsune. At night, however, the lights of the town below the mountain shrine reveal a far more terrifying expression, bringing out details that remain hidden beneath the sun.
The fangs hidden beneath its daytime smile seemed to form a twisted grin at night, whose intent you would rather not know. The statue wore the same twisted smile as it watched the once pristine town below go up in flames.
The cursed land, Shitou.
'He who would not worship me, shall burn in hell.'
…
"HE WHO DOESN'T WORSHIP HIM, SHALL BURN IN HELL!!! *hic*."
An old man rambled, his drunken self struggling to keep balance on the narrow sidewalk.
"… Stay close to me, Izo."
Hyoudou Issei, 7 years old.
I tightened my grip around my little brother's sleeve. On foot, the two of us made our way toward school, our shoes crunching audibly on the gravel.
"… Are those Hyoudou kids?"
"Seems like it…"
The strangers spoke in hushed tones, finding the two of us a brief topic of interest before turning away.
"Why are they alone?"
Thankfully, no one was actually bothered enough to strike up a conversation with us.
…
The early morning mist still had the air in its grasp. Icy cold mountain water rushed down the valley through natural cracks, running through the town.
As we made our way through the rows of dark gray roofs that blended seamlessly into the cliffs behind them, our bright yellow school hats stood out like bright pigments in a colorless labyrinth.
The sun peeked over the tall mountains, gaining strength with our every step and melting the frost on the roof tiles. Bicycle bells chimed as they sped past us. Shops were preparing to open for the day, and old neighbors were engaged in light, mundane conversations.
WHOOSH.
A cold breeze brushed past, threatening to sweep away my oversized yellow hat. I pulled it down, my fingers shivering from the morning chill. I checked on Izo, whose hand remained safe in my grip. He was staring blankly at a giant pole ahead, right in the center of the town square.
My eyes drifted upward, following the length of the pole, which towered over the town. Large speakers were mounted at the very top, which played a melody at five every evening, signalling children to return home—
*Static-*
I sucked in a sharp breath, my eyes widening.
I lunged forward, picking up speed and dragging my little brother as fast as my legs could.
A soothing melody of bell chimes poured from the speakers. The conversations died out almost immediately. The loud noise of heavy shutters slamming violently to the ground filled the town, as two pairs of little legs scurried as fast as they could towards the school.
******
People often call the place I grew up in, Shitou, 'a sanctuary straight out of a postcard or a calendar.'
Deep within the rugged folds in the northern reaches of Japan, in the Tohoku region, sat this beautiful town. In the spring, cherry blossoms blanketed the hillsides in vibrant pink, while the bitter winters invited travelers into the comforting warmth of natural hot springs. The air always smelled of rich mountain soil.
Shitou was an untouched paradise, a valley thriving quietly over its ancient limestone deposits. Time moved as slowly as the morning fog rolling off the peaks, an ideal haven for tired city dwellers seeking to heal their hearts.
However…
The Shitou I knew was always burning.
Years ago, the children of Shitou had migrated to the cities in search of employment, leaving behind an aging population. They became easy prey for the infamous gang known as Tokuryu.
Flames engulfed Shitou in the wake of Tokuryu's devastating raid. With their homes destroyed and no one left to protect them, the elderly residents had little choice but to flee, leading Shitou to become a ghost town.
It was not until the government took active initiative years later to repopulate Shitou that the town came back to life.
The generous incentives to move to Shitou attracted people from all kinds of backgrounds. Life was poured back into town, like oil into a dying lamp.
However, the only thing the new residents of Shitou shared with one other was that… they were not from Shitou… It didn't take long for the new life to catch fire.
Disputes over the limited resources started to emerge, slowly fracturing the town into the mess that I grew up with.
Among the first to settle in Shitou was Aoba Dining, a restaurant chain from the mainland. Behind its respectable public image, the group operated illegal gambling rings. The money soon made Aoba Dining the town's financial powerhouse, and its influence grew beyond its legitimate business. They became the first major faction: the Aoba-kai.
One could distinguish a high-level member of the Aoba-kai immediately by the ferocious Tosa Inu they carried, a rare Japanese dog breed. As Aoba-kai tightened its leash on the town, those who opposed its growing influence began banding together. They lacked Aoba's wealth and resources, but they had numbers. In time, these disparate groups became known as the Kawabe-ren.
Conflicts between the factions became frequent.
The government, having declared the repopulation project a success, had already moved on.
Rough-looking men now guarded the invisible boundaries running through the fractured Shitou. Whenever a clash between factions seemed imminent, the bōsai musen speakers in the town square played music outside their usual evening broadcast. It was a warning to get inside as fast as possible.
****
As long as one knew how not to attract the eyes of people above you, Shitou wasn't that terrible of a place to live in.
The most effective way to do that would be to not be part of any faction, like my family. We would be out of the decision making loop in town matters but hey, at least—
*thud*
A paper hit the back of my head, triggering a chain of laughter behind me.
"Hey, I am talking to you, brown head!"
"…"
"Keep quiet!"
The teacher slammed his book on the desk to keep the class in order, conveniently ignoring what happened to me.
"…"
—at least we could stay out of trouble…
Or maybe not.
It was upto the discretion of one who belonged to a faction to determine what happened to one who doesn't. If you are committed to neutrality, it means you are alone in this game.
The children who belonged to the factions, just by belonging to a faction, became people I should not mess with.
I looked to my side and saw other students in much worse shape than me, who belonged to the neutral faction.
The school deliberately avoided having the children of Aoba-kai's and Kawake-ren's children in one class, which led to the children of the neutral faction becoming the primary targets for bullying.
I turned my neck to lock eyes with the ringleader, the young Aoba. He sneered at me.
A child whose build, grades, discipline and everything noteworthy screamed mediocrity…
I focused my attention back forward, clenching my fist subconsciously.
It was obvious who would win in a fight between him and me. But what would come afterwards was equally obvious. …
He was surrounded by a gang of even more mediocres, who belonged to the Aoba faction. No one was foolish enough to mess with him considering their numbers… However…
*thud*
As another paper ball hit the back of my head…
Somewhere along the way, doubt started to take root in me.
Would I really lose to them, even if I was alone?
*****
In the evening my little brother and I would make our way back home from school, once again on foot.
A paper ball flew through the air, aimed at the back of my brother's head.
My hand shot out and slapped it away before it could hit him.
"…"
"…Aniki?"
Izo stared at me, confused by my movements. My arm wrapped around his neck, pulling him close and keeping him from looking behind us.
THUD!
A powerful thud hit my back. Rapidly followed by more.
As if punishing my defiance, they rained down on me.
"Aniki…!"
Izo, perhaps realizing what was happening, struggled against my arm, trying to pull away from me, but I held him tighter.
The barrage continued for what felt like ages, until their anger finally died down and we had put considerable distance between ourselves and the school.
Izo kept saying something beside me, but my ears failed to register his words.
Respect power.
Indeed…
....
The dragon god looked down on me, as if mocking my pathetic self. I met its gaze blankly, lost in thought.
"Issei?"
The wooden sword in my hand remained still.
"Where is your focus?!"
Father raised his voice angrily, clearly displeased.
"Practice second form two-hundred more times!"
After declaring my punishment, he stormed away. Izo looked at me worriedly before following suit.
"…"
I turned my gaze to the wooden sword in my hand.
Pursuing anything besides that majestic creature on the wall doesn't seem worthwhile to my parents. One had to wonder whether they were even aware of the factional conflicts happening around them, or perhaps they simply didn't care.
Perhaps they were also unaware of how their antisocial behavior had caused even the most normal people in this devilish town to consider us oddballs.
I met the gaze of their sole focus, the majestic dragon, once more.
Just, why did they pursue this creature with such devotion?
I lowered my stance, slowly raising my sword.
"HA!"
The sword sliced through the air in a heavy, downward swing.
First form…
Keeping the stance level, I took a forward step, bringing down the sword once more.
Shift.
I pivoted around the lowered sword point, raising it in a wide arc. From below to outward, then back inward.
Second form…
The wide, powerful arcs flowed out of my dance-like movements over and over with no end in sight.
*Hahahahaha….*
A round of laughter echoed through the still dojo.
"…"
My sword halted as my focus was lost once more.
A question that had been bugging me for ages finally revealed its face.
What's the point?
What's the point in pursuing this weapon or this god, when they are never with you? After all, one can't go around carrying a sword, whether it was wooden or not.
But even if this dummy sword, which I have been holding since I was able, were with me… would I… would I really dare to hit those bastards?
Those frail, pathetic bastards…?
Shadows rose around me, taking the shape of my tormentors. Laughter echoed through the dojo once more, their mocking laughter aimed at me.
I shook my head, trying to clear my head.
"Practice second form two-hundred more times!"
Father's harsh voice presented me with something to focus on.
I lowered my stance, raising my sword over my head, feeling it become heavier. The shadows danced around my line of sight.
The powerful downward swing was executed perfectly. However, the shadows fanned out, avoiding the sword as if I had aimed at them, then mocking me further for being unable to land a hit.
GRIT.
My teeth gnashed from the rage boiling in me. I twisted the blade and slashed upwards at a nearby shadow, catching it off guard.
…
The laughter ceased.
The shadows suddenly became wary and hostile. They rushed in together, swarming me from all directions.
I swung widely to free myself, but it was futile.
Overwhelmed, I found myself pinned to the ground, the darkness pressing down on me, swallowing me rapidly.
…
…
So my wariness proved to be right…
I thought, as my vision darkened.
*bubble*
Maybe it was a hopeless endeavour…
*bubble* *bubble*
After all… how am I supposed to beat this many with just myself?
I…
…
Glow.
A burst of brilliant blue poured like an ocean through the darkness.
*Clatter*
The sword left my hand, as I caught a fistful of the shadows and half-ripped it apart until it let go of my arm.
The darkness hissed, punishing me for daring to resist. With my free arm, I pushed myself up despite the crushing weight on my back.
Freeing myself from the indescribable weight, I assumed an unfamiliar fighting stance with nothing but my bare body.
The shadows spread out, aiming to overwhelm me once more.
In the ever-expanding dojo, I danced. An unfamilar yet oddlly suiting dance, filled with rage and power. Unfettered by the obstacles, I flowed like a raging river carving its path for the first time.
One by one, the shadows went down.
Until…
Pant… pant…
I had overwhelmed them all.
My disheveled self stood in the middle of the dojo, out of breath. The shadows had completely dissipated.
My eyesight blurred from exhaustion. The dojo came in and out of focus…
"… *Inaudible*… him!"
The atmosphere felt different from before… weird. There shouldn't be any wind—
"STOP HIM!"
My eyes opened to my classroom. The annoying, but somehow powerful pests all lay at my feet, some knocked unconscious, others crying in pain.
"… Ah."
… I… What is…
…
..
..
My fists hurt as the skin had peeled off from my knuckles. The horrifying possibility of what that implied blurred in my mind, slowly coming into focus.
This has to be a dream… it has to be a dream. There is no way I just…
Then my eyes found the face in the crowd now surrounding the disaster, as if to pour ice over that delusion. Izo's scared face, along with the faces of my other peers, anchored me back to reality…
"Ah…"
…
"We sincerely apologize for our son's misconduct."
My head was forcefully bowed to the principal, who was busy chiding my parents. The gravity of my crime was communicated clearly to them, and they hung their heads the entire time, apologizing over and over.
"Listen, Mr. and Mrs. Hyoudou, this is a reputable institution. We do not tolerate actions like this in any …"
He went on and on.
After what felt like an eternity, the principal chose to be lenient and decided not to expel me.
…
I couldn't discern my parents' expression as we drove back home.
Were they mad at me?
Of course they had to be. I had just broken an important rule and laid hands on people I shouldn't have. The amount of trouble it will bring was unforeseeable. Even if I apologized on my head, it wouldn't be enough…
The scorched land didn't welcome the flow of water. It burned fiercely in hopes of driving it away. In that unnatural land, the water was an unwelcome stranger.
"Father, Mother, I—"
""Well done, Ise!!""
My parents surrounded me, asking me what had happened, as if I had just gone on some school trip. They were interested in knowing how I fought, what I did, what I specifically felt during that fight.
My outburst had become worthy of praise.
Their eyes, the very eyes that always seemed directed at the majestic creature above… were now directed at me.
The river thus sprang forth mercilessly, overwhelming the cursed, burning land.
Marking the birth of my talent.
**********************************
End of chapter 14- The Protagonist.
**********************************
Author's Note:
If you liked the chapter, feel free to comment, like and share the story.
I am trying out new ways for me improve chapters, in an aesthetic sense while cranking up my personal output speed.
Current editing process takes way too much for me reliably produce a chapter per week.
Since english isn't my first language the mistakes that sometimes I make are really weird to locate. But recently some level of sensitivity to the aesthetic use of English has been developed successfully.