Higanbana: The Red Spider Lily

Amatsu first heard her name whispered in passing, a faint murmur on the lips of a child too weak to speak properly.

"H-Higanbana…" the boy had muttered, his voice trembling as he clung to the edge of consciousness.

Amatsu had been standing nearby, his dark eyes scanning-the boy had been lying on the cold ground, his body frail and trembling from exhaustion. And crouched beside him was the girl with crimson eyes.

She moved with an eerie calm, her small hands pressing a damp cloth to the boy's forehead. Her black hair with faint red highlights framed her soft face, and her expression was serene despite the desperation in the air.

"Rest," she had said to the boy, her voice quiet but steady. "Save your strength. You'll need it."

She didn't cry, didn't tremble like the others. Instead, she radiated a strange warmth—an anchor in a place filled with despair. The boy's lips moved again, barely audible.

"Higan… bana…"

She didn't respond to the name, but Amatsu's sharp ears caught it. He filed it away in his mind, like a tool he might one day need.

Higanbana. A flower's name. The red spider lily that bloomed in death.

It suited her, he thought. Her crimson eyes, her unyielding grace—it was as if she were a flower blooming in the midst of chaos. Beautiful, fragile, yet somehow untouched by the grime and blood of their surroundings.

Amatsu didn't approach her then. He didn't see the point. Weakness surrounded her—clinging children like parasites desperate for her warmth. She would fall with them, he thought. Survival demanded distance, not kindness.

---

[Buff Detected: Mental Buff ]

- Effect: +5% Mental Fortitude (Mental Stability) Buff (Permanent).

---

But as the hours passed, her name lingered in his mind, like the faint scent of a flower-spider Lily carried on the wind.

Now, as they stood at the edge of the forest, her presence beside him felt almost inevitable. She had drifted toward him over time, her quiet grace and calm persistence breaking through the barrier he maintained between himself and the others.

"Why do you stay near me?" he had once asked her, his voice cold and detached.

She had smiled faintly, her crimson eyes meeting his. "Because you don't scare me," she had replied.

It wasn't the answer he had expected. But then again, nothing about her ever was.

---

The forest stretched endlessly, its shadows thick and suffocating. The dense canopy above blocked even the faintest slivers of sunlight, plunging the ground below into a perpetual dusk. The air was heavy with moisture, clinging to skin like a shroud, and the only sounds were the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional snap of a twig. Somewhere within this vast labyrinth of trees, scattered like prey, were a hundred orphans, each struggling to survive.

Amatsu stood alone at the edge of a clearing, his dark eyes scanning the horizon. His expression was calm, indifferent, as unreadable as the surface of a still pond. He had chosen this spot carefully, far from the desperate clusters of children who had begun to band together in the hopes of safety. Weaklings, he thought. Huddling together for protection would only make them easier to find and kill.

"Shouldn't we go deeper?"

The soft voice came from beside him. Higanbana stood there, her small frame barely reaching his shoulder. Her crimson eyes, deep and warm, reflected a kind of kindness that felt alien in this place. Her long, dark hair with its faint red streaks swayed gently as she tilted her head, waiting for his response.

"The food they summoned," she continued, her voice carrying a quiet urgency. "If we don't go now, someone else will take it."

Amatsu didn't answer immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the misty horizon, his mind working through the possibilities. The food was bait, he knew. A lure to draw out the desperate and the foolish. The real test wasn't about feeding them—it was about weeding them out. Hunger would drive the weak to break, to fight, to expose their vulnerabilities. The forest didn't reward those who sought sustenance. It rewarded those who sought power.

"They'll tear each other apart for scraps," he said finally, his voice low and cold. "Let them."

Higanbana frowned slightly, her delicate features touched with a sadness that she didn't voice. "Even so," she murmured, "isn't it better to try? To help someone, even if it's just for a moment?"

Amatsu glanced at her, his dark eyes unreadable. Foolish, he thought. Her softness would get her killed. But there was something strange about her—a quiet strength that didn't come from muscle or skill, but from an unshakable belief in something he couldn't comprehend. She didn't argue with him, didn't push her ideals onto him. She simply stood there, waiting.

The ground trembled beneath their feet.

Amatsu's eyes snapped back to the forest ahead. The faint vibrations grew stronger, rolling through the earth like distant thunder. The mist that clung to the trees began to shift, swirling unnaturally, as if drawn toward some unseen force. The air grew heavier, thick with an oppressive energy that pressed down on their chests. Something was coming.

From the depths of the forest, a massive gate began to materialize. It rose out of the mist like a monolith, ancient and imposing. Its rusted surface was covered in intricate markings, glowing faintly with a sinister light. The gate towered over the trees, a silent, ominous presence that seemed to watch the forest with unseen eyes.

Higanbana took a step closer to Amatsu, her crimson eyes wide with wonder. "What is that?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Amatsu didn't answer. His gaze was fixed on the gate, his mind already racing. This wasn't a random occurrence. The gate's appearance was deliberate, calculated. It was here for a reason, and whatever lay beyond it would change the rules of the game.

The gate groaned as it began to open, the sound like the cry of a dying beast. From the darkness beyond, figures began to emerge—twenty-five of them, stepping through the gate with an air of quiet menace.

They were older, their ages ranging from twelve to fifteen, and their movements carried the weight of experience. Each step was deliberate, purposeful, and the way they carried themselves spoke of power and confidence. They weren't like the orphans scattered throughout the forest. These were hunters.

Amatsu's eyes narrowed as he studied them. Their postures, their expressions, the faint glimmers of chakra that rippled around some of them—everything about them screamed danger. They weren't here to help. They were here to hunt.

Higanbana's breath caught. "Chakra," she murmured, her voice tinged with awe and fear. "They... they know how to use chakra."

A tall boy with a scar running down one side of his face stepped to the front of the group. His cold, predatory gaze swept across the forest, searching, assessing.

He raised his hand, forming a quick series of seals. Chakra flared around him, and a small flame ignited in his palm, crackling with an intensity that belied its size. The display was simple, but it carried a message: this was what they lacked. This was what they would have to fight for.

"Want to learn chakra?" the scarred boy continued, his voice dripping with mockery. "Then take it. By force. From us. There are no rules here. No mercy. You want power? Earn it—or die trying."

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Somewhere deeper in the forest, a faint cry echoed—a child's voice, panicked and shrill. It was cut off abruptly, replaced by the wet sound of something sharp meeting flesh.

The hunt had begun.

Higanbana's hands clenched at her sides, her crimson eyes flickering with a sadness that seemed out of place in this cruel environment. "Why?" she whispered. "Why must it always come to this?"

Amatsu didn't look at her. His focus was absolute, his mind already working through the possibilities, the risks, the advantages. The older children weren't just opponents—they were a resource. They held the knowledge of chakra, the power he needed to survive. And power was the only thing that mattered.

"Move," he said, his voice cold as the forest air. "The weak will perish, forgotten by the earth. If you want to live, follow me."

Higanbana hesitated for a moment, her fingers curling into the fabric of her clothes. Then, with a quiet nod, she followed him, her small frame disappearing into the shadows of the forest behind him.

The screams continued to echo, growing louder as the chaos spread. Blood would stain the forest floor tonight, and the weak would fall. Amatsu didn't look back. There was no place for weakness. Only survivors.

---

The forest was alive with the sounds of chaos. Screams cut through the dense air like blades, sharp and fleeting, only to be swallowed by the vast silence that followed. From the shadows, faint glimmers of chakra flared like fireflies, brief bursts of power that marked where the older children hunted. Blood was already being spilled.

Amatsu moved swiftly, his steps silent as he weaved through the dense undergrowth. His dark eyes scanned the terrain around him, every movement deliberate. He wasn't running from the hunters. No, he was searching, calculating. The chaos wasn't a threat—it was an opportunity. The weak would panic, their fear drawing the predators toward them. The strong would adapt, learn, and survive. Amatsu was neither prey nor predator yet; he was something in between, waiting to evolve.

Behind him, Higanbana followed closely, her small frame moving with surprising grace. She didn't complain, didn't ask questions, though her crimson eyes betrayed her unease. The screams in the distance weighed on her, each one pressing against her heart like a dull knife.

"They're killing them…" she murmured, her voice soft and filled with quiet sorrow. "Some of them don't even know how to fight back…"

Amatsu didn't slow down. The cries of the dying were white noise to his ears. Yet, as his legs carried him forward, his endurance refused to falter. The hunger, exhaustion, and sharp pangs in his muscles dulled, replaced by a raw focus. He pushed harder, the forest air dragging against his lungs, igniting a fire within. 'Weakness will fall here,' he thought, locking the sensation into his body like a cornerstone.

---

[Buff Detected: Endurance Buff]

- Effect: +3% (Permanent).

---

Her lips parted slightly at his words, but she said nothing. She looked down briefly, her delicate hands clutching at her sides as if to steady herself. "Even if that's true," she said after a moment, her voice trembling slightly, "does it have to be like this?"

Amatsu glanced back at her, his gaze cold and unyielding. "The forest doesn't care about your feelings. Neither do they." He nodded toward the faint glow of chakra that flickered in the distance. "If you want to survive, stop thinking like a victim."

Higanbana didn't respond, but her expression shifted, a quiet determination settling over her features. Whatever she was thinking, she kept it to herself. Her kindness was still there, but there was something else now—a resolve that hadn't been there before.

A sudden rustling in the bushes ahead brought them both to a halt. Amatsu's hand instinctively moved to the jagged shard of metal he had scavenged earlier, his grip firm but loose, ready to strike. Higanbana froze behind him, her crimson eyes wide as she peered into the darkness.

From the shadows, a boy stumbled out, his face pale and streaked with dirt. He couldn't have been older than ten, his thin frame trembling as he clutched a makeshift club in his hands. His breathing was ragged, his eyes wild with fear.

"Help..." the boy choked, his voice raw and broken, tears carving trails through the dirt on his face. "They're coming... they're going to kill me..."

Amatsu didn't move, his gaze fixed on the boy. He could hear the faint rustle of leaves behind him, the quiet but deliberate footsteps of someone—or something—approaching. The boy was bait, whether he realized it or not. Helping him would mean exposing themselves to the hunters.

Higanbana, however, stepped forward. Her movements were slow, careful, her expression soft and reassuring. "It's okay," she said gently, her voice like a calm breeze. "You're safe now. Just stay quiet and—"

The boy's eyes widened suddenly, and his mouth opened to scream. But before a sound could escape, a kunai whizzed through the air, its blade glinting faintly in the dim light before embedding itself in his throat. Blood spurted from the wound, and the boy collapsed to the ground, his body twitching briefly before going still.

Higanbana froze, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at the lifeless body at her feet. Her hands trembled, and for a moment, she couldn't move.

A figure stepped out of the shadows, their movements slow and deliberate. It was one of the older children, a girl with short, spiky hair and a crooked grin that didn't reach her cold, gleaming eyes. She twirled another kunai in her hand, her posture relaxed but predatory.

"Cute," the girl said, her voice laced with mockery as she looked at Higanbana. "Trying to play hero? You must be new to this."

Amatsu's grip on his makeshift weapon tightened. He stepped slightly in front of Higanbana, his expression calm but his eyes sharp, assessing. The girl didn't seem to notice—or care. Her attention was focused entirely on Higanbana, who still hadn't moved.

"Let me guess," the girl continued, taking a step closer. "You thought you could save him? Thought you could make a difference?" She chuckled, a low, cruel sound. "People like you die first."

Higanbana's hands clenched into fists at her sides, her crimson eyes beginning to glimmer faintly. "You didn't have to kill him," she said quietly, her voice trembling but firm.

The girl stopped, raising an eyebrow. "And? What's your point?"

Amatsu's calm voice cut through the tension like a blade. "She's stalling."

The girl's expression shifted, confusion flashing across her face for a brief moment before realization set in. She turned toward Amatsu just as he lunged forward, his movements swift and precise. The jagged shard of wood in his hand slashed toward her neck, aiming for the artery.

---

[Buff Detected: Precision Buff]

- Effect: +3% Precision(Permanent).

---

The girl reacted quickly, twisting her body to avoid the blow. The wood blade grazed her shoulder instead, drawing a thin line of blood. She hissed in pain, her grin fading as her eyes narrowed.

"Not bad," she muttered, taking a step back. "But you'll have to do better than that."

Amatsu didn't respond. He didn't waste energy on words. His focus was absolute, his movements calculated as he pressed the attack. Each strike was deliberate, aimed to exploit openings in her defense. He didn't fight with anger or desperation—only cold efficiency.

The girl, however, was no amateur. She moved with practiced ease, her kunai flashing as she deflected his attacks. Her grin returned, though it was tinged with frustration now. "You're good," she admitted, her tone grudging. "But you're not good enough."

Amatsu didn't falter. He wasn't trying to win. Not yet. His goal wasn't to defeat her—it was to learn. Every movement she made, every strike, every shift in her stance, he committed to memory. She was experienced, but she wasn't invincible. She had weaknesses. He just needed time to find them.

Higanbana, meanwhile, stood frozen, her hands trembling as she watched the fight unfold. Her mind raced, her emotions a whirlwind of fear, anger, and helplessness. She wanted to help, but she didn't know how. She didn't know what she could do.

The girl's kunai slashed toward Amatsu's chest, but he twisted his body at the last second, the blade grazing his side instead of piercing flesh. He countered with a quick thrust of his own weapon, forcing her to step back.

"You're wasting my time," the girl growled, her grin fading completely now. "I've got better things to do than play with brats."

She stepped back, her posture shifting as she prepared to end the fight. Chakra flared around her, faint but visible, and her hands began to form seals.

Amatsu's gaze fixed on her, unwavering, like a predator studying its prey.

This was it. This was the moment he had been waiting for.