A Child Drenched in Blood

The evening sun cast long shadows across the streets, painting the world in hues of gold and crimson. A young boy sprinted down the narrow alleys, his breath coming in sharp gasps. His small frame weaved through the crowd with ease, his excitement almost tangible.

Finally, he reached a modest bungalow at the end of the street. Without hesitation, he jumped onto the porch and pushed the door open.

"I'm home!" he called out, his voice carrying an innocent enthusiasm.

From the kitchen, a soft voice responded.

"Welcome back, Ryuketsu," his mother greeted, turning from the counter with a warm smile.

But as his gaze shifted, his heart sank.

His father stood in the hallway, silent, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he turned his back and walked away.

Ryuketsu's smile faded.

His fingers clenched at his sides as he lowered his head and walked toward his room. The door creaked shut behind him as he collapsed onto his bed, legs crossed in a meditative posture. His mind was a storm of emotions.

"Should I tell Dad? Should I tell him I've finally awakened my powers? Maybe… maybe he'll finally acknowledge me."

A flicker of hope sparked in his chest, but it was quickly extinguished.

"No…"

His expression darkened.

"He'd just make fun of me… and even beat me up."

A cold shiver ran down his spine at the thought.

Then—

"Ryuketsu!!"

His father's voice boomed from the parlor, sharp and demanding.

Ryuketsu jolted upright.

"Y-Yes, Dad!" he called back, quickly scrambling to his feet.

He dashed into the living room—only to freeze in horror.

His mother knelt on the floor, trembling, her face streaked with tears. Small cuts adorned her cheek and hands, fresh trails of blood running down her skin.

And standing over her…

His father.

The man's presence was suffocating, his eyes cold and merciless as they locked onto Ryuketsu.

"Go get me a bottle of beer," he ordered, his voice dripping with venom. "I've got to smack some sense into this useless shitbag."

Ryuketsu's heart pounded.

"Dad… what the hell are you doing?!"

Before he could react—

SLAP!

A blinding pain exploded across his face as his father's hand connected with the force of a hammer.

Ryuketsu's small body was sent flying backward. His head slammed into the TV with a deafening CRASH! Glass shards scattered across the floor as he slumped down, his vision swimming.

"You bastard!" his father roared. "How dare you destroy my TV?!"

Staggering to his feet, Ryuketsu barely had time to process what was happening before his father stormed out of the room.

For a brief second, there was silence.

Then, the heavy stomp of boots.

His father returned, a bottle of beer in one hand. Without warning, he smashed it against Ryuketsu's head.

CRACK!

A wave of dizziness crashed over him. His vision blurred, his thoughts slowing to a crawl as the world spun around him.

Blood trickled down his forehead. His limbs felt heavy, his breath shallow. But just as he teetered on the edge of unconsciousness—

A whipping sound tore through the air.

Ryuketsu's dazed eyes flickered open just in time to see the incoming strike—

A belt with blades.

SWISH—

The razor-sharp metal tore across his face.

A piercing, burning pain erupted in his left eye.

"AAAHHH!!"

Blood gushed from the wound, hot and unrelenting.

His mother screamed.

She lunged forward, arms outstretched to shield her son—

But his father snarled, his face twisted in rage.

With the jagged remnants of the broken bottle still clutched in his hand, he drove it into her shoulder.

A sickening squelch filled the air.

Ryuketsu's mother gasped, her body jerking from the impact. Tears of agony welled in her eyes.

But it didn't stop there.

Before she could react, his father swung the glass across her neck.

A deep, crimson line formed along her throat.

And then—

The blood poured.

Thick. Dark. Endless.

Her body trembled violently.

"MOM!!"

Something inside Ryuketsu snapped.

A guttural, rage-filled scream erupted from his throat as his blood—his very own blood—rose from his wounds, shifting unnaturally in midair.

The thick liquid morphed into sharp, gleaming shards.

And in one swift motion—

They launched.

A barrage of crimson daggers shot toward his father with lethal intent—

But then—

"NO!!"

His mother threw herself in front of him.

SHLKK!

The shards pierced through her body.

One drove into her left chest. Another embedded itself deep into her abdomen. Her frail frame trembled, struggling to remain standing.

Ryuketsu's breath hitched.

His father stumbled back in terror, his rage replaced with panic. Without hesitation, he bolted for the door.

Ryuketsu reached out, desperate, his entire body trembling.

"Mom—! Hold on!"

She wobbled on unsteady feet, a weak smile gracing her lips as she raised a shaking hand to his cheek.

Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Even if your dad doesn't acknowledge you…" she coughed, blood dripping from her lips. "I'm proud of you… You are… strong…"

Her legs buckled.

She collapsed into his arms.

Her head fell limp.

The light in her eyes faded.

Ryuketsu's whole body shook.

His fingers curled tightly around her as his chest heaved in erratic sobs.

Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the blood that soaked his skin.

And then—

A burning, seething hatred took hold.

His tear-streaked gaze snapped toward the open door—toward the cowardly silhouette fleeing into the night.

His hands clenched into trembling fists.

His breath came out in slow, ragged gasps.

His entire being boiled with rage.

A single vow left his lips, venomous and unwavering.

"I swear…"

His blood swirled around him, pulsing with newfound power.

"I will hunt you down."

The streets were empty, bathed in the pale glow of the moon. A lone figure stumbled through the alleys, his small frame tattered and broken.

Blood coated his body, staining his torn clothes, dried in thick, dark streaks.

Ryuketsu barely felt his steps as he trudged forward, exhaustion threatening to swallow him whole.

His limbs ached. His head throbbed. His wounds stung as the cool night breeze brushed against them.

Finally, his legs gave out beneath him.

He collapsed under the shade of a large tree, his back pressed against the rough bark.

A sharp pain jolted through his body, but he grit his teeth, forcing himself to endure it.

The wind howled softly. The world felt so… quiet.

"So… this is what it means to be alone…"

His eyelids grew heavy.

And with one final breath, he drifted into unconsciousness.

—

By the time he opened his eyes, the sky was painted in hues of gold and blue.

Morning had come.

Ryuketsu blinked, his vision adjusting to the sunlight filtering through the leaves.

Then, he felt it.

The pain—

Gone.

His hands shot up to his chest, his arms, his face—

Not a single wound remained.

Ryuketsu: (thinking, amused) "Woah… all my wounds are gone. How?"

He ran his fingers over his skin, astonished. The deep gashes from last night had completely vanished, as if they were never there.

He exhaled, shaking his head.

Ryuketsu: "Well, the scars are still engraved in my heart… Haaa, man…"

Pushing himself up, he dusted off his clothes, though the dried blood still clung to him.

His stomach growled.

"I need to find food…"

With that, he started walking.

—

The streets stretched endlessly before him.

He passed through old neighborhoods, abandoned houses lining the road like ghosts of a forgotten past.

Then, something caught his eye.

A small, burnt house stood at the edge of the district, its walls blackened with soot.

Curiosity tugged at him.

Carefully, he stepped inside.

The moment he did—

"AAAHHH!!"

A chorus of screams erupted from within.

Startled, Ryuketsu looked around.

Several children—about his age, maybe younger—huddled together, their faces filled with fear.

But one boy stood firm.

Unlike the others, he didn't flinch.

Instead, he stepped forward.

Tall. Confident. Eyes sharp like a blade.

Ryuketsu instinctively tensed as the boy stopped just inches away from him.

They were almost the same height.

But this boy—he carried an aura far heavier than his size suggested.

And then—

The boy spoke.

Kairo: (coldly) "Hey. Who the hell are you?"

Ryuketsu swallowed.

Ryuketsu: "I-I'm… Ryu-Ryuketsu… S-sorry for disturbing you. I'm an orphan… and was looking for a place to stay."

The boy's expression remained unreadable.

Kairo: "I'm Kairo. It's my pleasure meeting you."

A brief pause.

Then, Kairo turned slightly, gesturing around the room.

Kairo: "Well, this is an orphanage home. You're welcome to stay. If you have any complaints, you can use the door."

Ryuketsu quickly shook his head.

Ryuketsu: "N-No! I have no complaints!"

His eyes wandered across the dimly lit room.

A large poster covered one of the walls.

And on it—

Detailed plans.

Schematics of infiltration tactics. Marked assassination routes. Names. Bounties.

Ryuketsu's jaw dropped.

Ryuketsu: (stunned) "E-Eeehh?! Assassins?! No way!!"

Kairo turned to him, eyebrow raised.

Kairo: "What's wrong?"

Ryuketsu exhaled, rubbing the back of his head.

Ryuketsu: "Well… I've got an older brother who's one. I plan to surpass him."

A smirk tugged at Kairo's lips.

Kairo: "Is that so? Heh… interesting."

He extended his hand.

Kairo: "Then let's join forces."

His eyes gleamed with excitement.

Kairo: "With my fire—"

Ryuketsu smirked.

Ryuketsu: "—And my blood!"

Their hands clasped.

In unison, their voices echoed through the orphanage.

"Together we'll rise above them all, with our powers we'll change everything 

—

The present.

The memory faded.

Ryuketsu exhaled sharply, his gaze shifting to the sky.

Then, he rose to his feet.

Blood began to rise from his skin, swirling in thick, crimson tendrils.

His expression hardened.

Ryuketsu: (frown) "Blood Arts."

A low hum filled the air.

His aura pulsed with an ominous glow.

And with that—