A New Home - Chapter 1
The day is nigh noon when their bickering began, the scorching heat accompanying the highs and lows of their voices. Their voices are strained as the man and his wife fought to be heard, their voices overlapping angrily as they spat venom and rancor at
each other. Suddenly, the man roared something biting enough to bring the woman to silence, her eyes glimmered with tears like the jewel she wore on her neck. The gem he gifted her the day they married.
They were once again at each other's throats on some meaningless matter, always avoiding the elephant in the room. The man puffed out a breath of indignation before padding towards his tearing wife to console her. He rubbed her shoulder gently before
pulling her into his embrace and muttered a soft apology onto the crown of her head as he tucked her under his chin. The smell of her shampoo mingled with her natural scent never failed to put him at ease; the rage he felt minutes ago melted along
with their problem. They stood there in the other's embrace, not noticing the encroachment of hostile presence. They never saw it coming.
Figures encased in dark clothing flooded their home from every opening. Their movements flowed with practiced synchronicity, to only be emphasized by their identical appearances. The first masked figure to encroach the couple's home approached the man
and his wife and whispered some foreign tongue, much to the confusion of the couple. In a moment of realization, the man suddenly understood just who these masked figures were and what it was that they wanted, to annihilate all inhabitants of Ta no Kuni.
Theman was too late to realized this whenthe figurelunged forward with a gleaming tantō,stabbinghim through the heart. The sickening wet sound of flesh tear and bone breaking resonated through the stilled woman
remain frozen next to her husband's corpsebefore adrenaline finallykicked in and urged her to move the hell outta there before they kill her too.
Just as she had about to bolt, a second masked figure had anticipated her action and held her down before slitting her throat cleanly,immediately silenced her distressed cry.
Once all was silent, the figures began scrounging for other human presences but soon left when there were none. One by one, the figures adorned in identical bone white porcelain masks swiftly made their way to the next house, leaving behind them streaks
of blood splatters all over. Unbeknownst to them, there had been a third presence in the home who witnessed the execution.
The young child had been hiding in the broom closet just behind the first turn on the right on the connecting hallway. His eyes were encrusted in tear salts as he silently cried at the horror he just witnessed. These people, who were they? How could they have done this to his family? Why did they hurt his mama and papa? Would parents ever wake up? The
same questions circled over and over in his mind as he attempted to calm his hiccups silenced pressing his hand to his mouth.
The snot and slobber was making it hard for him to breathe and it seems that his tears won't stop themselves so he might as well cry out loud now that he's alone. Tears welled up and flowed freely once again, much to the boy's dismay. He pawed the tears
and snot before taking a deep breath to calm down. Calm down like his mother always tells him, breathe in… breathe out… How he already misses mama and papa…
Having enough of crying alone in the dark broom closet, the boy shakily leaned on his hands and knees, took a deep breath, and finally stood up for what felt like an eternity. With shaky hands, he nudged the door open to be greeted by the sight of red, red, and more red.
The putrid smell of stewed viscera invaded his senses as he turned away from his parents' lifeless bodies.
Based on his taxonomy knowledge, the boy concluded that his parents' were truly slumbering for good. They will never wake again. They were already reaching rigor mortis; only the impossible would be able to bring them back. The boy stood over their bodies
and looked into their eyes as people he loved one last time before closing their eyes with the palm of his hand. Before turning away, a reflection from his mother's blood puddle caught his eyes. It reflected an eerily red yet clear mirror image of
him; a boy with his father's eyes and his mother's hair, a boy who just lost his parents to unknown figures, a boy named Orochimaru.