Chapter One: Demon's Rising, Part 1
In a relatively distant part of the Earth Kingdom, a tall man in his early thirties with waist-length brown hair was walking towards the town over to see if the Fire Nation armies had clashed with the Earth Kingdom armies there once again. He was sad to see that his assumptions were proved to be true by all of the corpses left in the wake of the town's destruction. His sadness went out to all of the fallen, not just those soldiers of the Kingdom; death in war was always gruesome and never pleasant, which is why the man's sympathies went out to the fallen Nation warriors as well.
He was not expecting to see a survivor eating his meal amongst the deceased.
This survivor was a young boy, roughly nine to ten years old, in a tattered old blue hakama and clutching a sheathed katana in his left hand while feeding himself with his right. The most outstanding features belonging to the child was his wavy, silver-colored hair and his dark red eyes. These very same eyes took in the man's walk and the sword at his side, and he clutched his own sword tighter.
"Some folks often say that only a demon would be eating food among the dead with such calmness," said the man. By now, the man had come within arms length of the child while continuing to take in the boy's appearance. "They would say the same of one who has red eyes and silver hair." This statement only served to make the boy more suspicious of this man. "On the other hand, you're too cute to be a demon." As he said this, the man put his hand on the boy's head and ruffled his hair. This prompted the boy to move back and place his hands on the sword's hilt in a threatening manner, causing the man to frown.
"Is that why you were eating on top of the corpses; to protect yourself? Is it also why you're carrying that sword?" The man took a few steps back and held his own sheathed katana in his hand. The boy braced himself for an attack, but was surprised when the man tossed the sword in his direction and caught it while dropping his own sword in the process.
"Take my sword, and if you're interested, come over to my dojo to learn how to use that sword properly. You see, a sword's purpose isn't for defending your life; it's for defending your soul."
Brow furrowed in contemplation and awe, the child stood there for roughly fourteen seconds before following the man on the road. This brought a smile to the man's face and warmth in his heart before realizing he had no idea what to call the boy. He turned his head and said "Shouyo."
The boy looked upwards in confusion.
"That's my name; Shouyo." Pleased by the comprehension filling the boy's face, he promptly asked "What's your name?" He was going to let the conversation drop when he saw the boy's shoulders tense, but the man now known as Shouyo was rewarded with an answer.
"Gintoki."