The night contained many wonders to an eight year-old child, especially one as inquisitive as Tsubasa Miryu. Ever since birth, she was depraved of her mother, and father, who came from noble Samurai clans. Her mother was Reiyama Ryumiko, leader of the Shinsen-Gumi's First Division before Okita Shoji, and her father, Tsubasa Akurou, heir to the opium-lord, and adviser of the Shogun, Tsubasa Akarou.
Reiyama Ryumiko died to save Miryu and Hiko Seijurou XIII, master of the Hiten-Mitsurugi from Tsubasa Akurou, who she killed before her death. Since then, the child has lived with Hiko, whom she regarded as a father whom she never had.
"Shishou… why is the moon always following us?" Miryu asked, playing by Hiko's side as he took a sip of his favorite Sake.
"Well, so that it can see and protect you" Hiko said without thinking, "In this way, you'll never get hurt by the bad guys I always have to fight" It's an understatement, he thought.
"I think it smelt your Sake and followed you because it wants a sip too" she joked. "Am I right, Shishou?"
He just smiled but said nothing. "Come, Miryu, let's go home".
"Okay…" the child answered, and followed him, not knowing of the events that would come will change her life as it is.
Disease is everywhere, including this whole era and its people, he said in his mind.
Not far away, sounds of a passing caravan could be heard. It was a band of slave-traders, and their merchandise. A boy with red hair and the softest violet eyes looked at the spinning-top in his hand, and the moon. The woman in front of him smiled at him, and the smile was returned.
Violence increases with every passing day, regardless of your strengths. Miryu did not say anything, as she saw him deep in thought. Making a quick stop to pick a small, but beautiful flower, she caught up with him as much as she could.
The sounds of women screaming pierced the night, which made Miryu's hairs stand on end. Bandits had attacked the caravan mentioned before, killing everyone at will. "Shishou, did you hear that?" she asked Hiko, "I'm scared…"
"Don't be, Miryu. I'm here" he comforted her, picking her up in his arms.
The red-haired boy stood before three women, taking the katana of the man who'd just been killed. One of them, snatched him away, and covered his body with hers. "Please, don't" begged the second before she was hacked into two.
"Shinta, don't look" exclaimed the one who was holding him, and covered his eyes as best as she could.
"Please… this boy…" cried the third. Yet, her pleas were still futile.
Shinta could feel the woman being lifted up. "You're so young…" she said, "You couldn't possibly choose… You will be spared! Live, and find meaning in your life, unlike those who died here…" A man lifted her by her flowing raven hair, and thrust his sword through her neck. "Shinta… you must live!" she said before breathing her last.
The boy started to accept his short life before he heard men being killed, and a voice from afar, saying, "Miryu, I want you to hide anywhere possible, don't come out until I tell you to"
"Hai!" said the girl and ran off.
"Who are you?" his would-be killer asked Hiko.
"There's no need to introduce myself to the dead" Hiko replied.
The bandit was infuriated, and ran towards him, with his katana raised. Only to be slashed into pieces by the master-swordsman.
"Ku-Zu-Ryu-Sen!" Miryu exclaimed when she saw the attack. Even though she was only six, she was used to see Hiko's battles with others, so she was not frightened by dead bodies or blood.
The full moon shined upon Shinta and Hiko, who called for Miryu. "Fate brought us here, so that I could avenge their deaths" he said, as he cleaned his katana, which shone was new after the blood was wiped off. "No grief or damnation can bring back the dead. Be grateful that you've survived, this is commonplace" He turned to Miryu, signaling her that it was time to go home. She obeyed, and let him carry her. Hiko looked at Shinta, who was kneeling beside the three women who protected him.
The smell of blood befouls the air, it is an insult to be killed like a dog or sold like a prostitute, he thought. It is getting more and more common.
