"For my family," Hiroshi said.
His voice was quiet, almost lost beneath the rustling of golden leaves. They sat beside a crackling fire in the alien forest—surrounded by crooked trees, ghostly vines, and strange, flickering eyes in the distance. But for once, neither of them cared.
"For my family… having a child wasn't a blessing," he continued. "It was just another mouth to feed."
Kibo didn't interrupt. He only listened as Hiroshi's voice began to tremble.
[Flashback – Hiroshi's Memory]
The village was broken long before Hiroshi was.
A sun-scorched place where even the wind felt dry. The soil had cracked, the rivers had disappeared, and the forests that once teemed with life were quiet. The only sounds came from groaning stomachs and the creak of carts carrying away what little food was left.
The samurai had already taken most of it—whatever rice remained, whatever grains they could scrape from the granaries. And so the villagers survived the only way they could: foraging in the mountains, hoping the animals hadn't already fled or starved.
Hiroshi had been gone all day, climbing steep hills and combing through the trees. His legs shook with every step, but he kept moving. He had no choice.
When he finally caught a rabbit—a small, half-starved thing—he felt more relief than joy.
He returned home with the kill wrapped in cloth. The moment he stepped inside, his little sister ran to him barefoot across the cold floor.
"Did you find anything?" she asked. "For Mom and Dad?"
Hiroshi showed her the rabbit.
Her eyes lit up. "Really? This much?"
Their mother approached slowly. She didn't say much. Just looked at the rabbit like it was a gift from the heavens.
"This can last us the week," she said quietly.
Their father didn't speak. He simply nodded, and said he was going to trade some things for rice in the neighboring village.
But Hiroshi saw it—he wasn't carrying anything. No tools, no cloth, no pottery. Nothing to trade.
Another lie.
As his sister stood by the fire, warming her tiny hands, she looked up at him and asked:
"Did you eat anything? In the forest?"
He paused, then forced a smile.
"Yeah. Found some berries. I'm full."
That was a lie too. He hadn't eaten in two days.
She looked down at her own thin arms, her ribs visible even through her worn kimono.
"How long are we gonna live like this?" she whispered. "Waking up not knowing if we'll eat that night?"
Hiroshi crouched down and placed a hand on her head.
"Just a little more," he said. "Once it rains again, we'll grow rice. We'll cook your favorite—ichiju issai, remember? Rice, soup, pickles…"
He forced another smile. "Things will get better. I promise."
That night, his mother cooked white rice.
A rare thing. Something only nobles could afford. She must have hidden it for months. Maybe years.
She didn't eat any of it herself. Neither did the father.
They watched Hiroshi and his sister eat slowly, carefully, every grain precious. His mother smiled—but her eyes were full of tears.
It was the best meal of his life.
And maybe the last.
[Present – Forest Campfire]
"I slept after that," Hiroshi muttered. "Then I woke up here. In this… place."
He looked up at Kibo.
"I don't know if that night was real, or if this is the dream. But I know one thing—my family's still hungry."
He clenched his fists.
"Yes. I stole from you. I'm not sorry. I'll be selfish if I have to. For them? I'll lie. I'll steal. I'll survive."
Kibo stared at him for a while, unreadable.
Then he tossed the last of his rations toward Hiroshi.
"Tell your sister I gave it to you," he said.
Hiroshi caught the food, eyes wide with surprise.
"Eat," Kibo muttered, laying down on his back. "We've got more walking to do tomorrow."
Hiroshi sat there in silence for a moment. Then gave a soft nod, clutching the food to his chest like it was gold.
The fire crackled gently.
Then a sudden burst of light lit up the trees.
Both boys turned.
Far away, near a high cliff, a glowing beam of energy shot up into the sky, pulsing. At the edge of that ridge stood a lone torii gate, red against the blackness.
Hiroshi squinted. "What… is that?"
Kibo sat up, brushing off his sleeve.
"No clue," he said. "But maybe someone's there. Someone who can tell us what this place is."
He laid back down again.
"Get some rest. We'll head for it in the morning."
[Next Morning]
The golden light filtered softly through the forest, less eerie in daylight but no less strange. Birds—if they could be called that—chirped in distorted patterns.
Kibo walked ahead with his sword on his hip. Hiroshi followed close behind, bow slung over his back.
They hadn't said much since waking.
"Hey," Kibo said suddenly. "You're pretty good with a bow. Where'd you learn?"
Hiroshi shrugged. "My father taught me. Hunting in the woods, mostly. Said it'd keep me fed. Didn't think I'd use it to survive."
Kibo glanced back. "Not much different from ours, is it?"
"Maybe not," Hiroshi muttered.
"What about you?" he asked. "The sword. You learned it yourself?"
Kibo gave a short nod. "No one else wanted to see me holding one."
"Why?"
Kibo's expression hardened.
"To protect someone I care about," he said flatly. "Don't ask too much about it."
Hiroshi didn't push.
A while later, Hiroshi stopped and handed over his bow and arrow.
"Let me try the sword."
Kibo looked at him sideways. "You sure?"
"Just curious."
He took the weapon with both hands. It was heavier than it looked, the balance unfamiliar. He swung it once—awkward. Twice—better.
"I don't get how you move with this like it's part of you."
"Muscle memory," Kibo said, testing the draw on the bowstring.
They continued walking, trading weapons in silence. The path sloped uphill. The torii gate flickered faintly in the distance.
And then—
Snap.
Kibo grunted as a rope yanked him upward by the leg. In one violent motion, he flipped upside down and dangled from a tree limb, swinging.
"What the hell—?!"
"Kibo!" Hiroshi ran forward, sword still in hand.
"Some kind of trap—!"
Suddenly, Hiroshi stopped. He wasn't alone.
Something shifted in the trees.
A flicker of movement. A low shape darting through the underbrush—fast, unnatural.
Kibo twisted and cursed above him.
"Behind you—!"
Hiroshi turned, heart pounding.
From between the trees, something—or someone—was moving.
And it was coming straight for them.