"Nice to see you up and awake, Son," my father greeted me as he ruffled my tousled blonde hair. "Hurry up and get dressed, and go hurry help your mother prepare for the feast."

The feast. The feast for the newborn child in our Clan, Kohaku. I knew that deep inside of me-I was still lazy-that if he wasn't my second degree cousin I wouldn't do what father said. So, as politely as I could while concealing the whine in my voice, I answered with a little voice, "Yes, father." I couldn't hide the sleepiness in my voice; after all, I did spend all night reading a book father bought from one of those traders that passed by our small village in Rukuso Valley. I numbly reached for my tunic and couldn't stifle a yawn.

"Busy up late last night, hmm?" my father inspected. He spotted me taking my tunic from the rack. "Oh, don't wear that. That's for later," he said. He eyed me carefully. "...Your undershirt. That's good enough. It's warm outside, temperate even."

"Yes father," I said silently, almost murmuring, and awkwardly folded back the tunic. I put it in the rack. I turned to my father. "Is Mother outside, Father? ... or maybe I can help you with the carpentry?" I offered, taking sight of the high stack of wood that piled on the work-corner.

"Ahh, there is no need for that," he said, and turned around. "Go help her with the garland, Kurapika. Carpentry's too heavy a business for you," he concluded. His tone made sure there will be no objections.

But I'm twelve, I thought grudgingly. Maybe because I was slender - awkwardly slender, even - and not muscular; maybe because I moved ... with grace, and not ragged like the other boys my age; maybe because of my feminine features. No, it's not a maybe, I'm pretty sure of that. I sighed. Why does looks always have to matter? I have strength too. I should, being heir to the throne. ... but I always land on the 'feminine' jobs.

I trudged out longingly out the door and I was greeted by a fresh splash of warm air. I was expecting a chilly air to greet Kohaku's ... feast of twelfth day. Maybe the warm air meant something... I hoped it was good.

The Feast, which we called the 'Suviata,' was a very important feast in our Clan. When children are born, they and their mothers were isolated for the twelve days after it is born. It was custom. Survival was the key. A Suviata happened when the children survived. Kohaku did, and I even got the honor of naming him. No one except me, my Mother and Father, and Kohaku's mom knew that he was named Kohaku. To the rest, he was just the baby.

Taking me away from my thoughts, my mother called me with a loving voice. "Ahh, Kurapika." I turned around on my heel and found her there, by the trees, cradling a bunch of flower lilies. She looked tired, but she still wore that warm smile on her face - she always does. "Come and help me, will you please?"

"Yes, mother," I greeted her. Why not? I thought, and a smile passed my face. She was always so happy and with a smile, warm as a mother could be. "Will I help you with the garland, mother?

And the day slowly dragged on. We got to finish the garland and decorations, and I was pretty sure I had never seen anything so grand. Flowers of many colors decorated the entire village, their scents mingling with the air. It was so refreshing, and showed how lush our land was. I was proud to have come here and will have a chance to be leader. What a wonder feeling, I thought, wiping the sweat accumulating on my forehead with the back of my hand.

"Oh my, look at you. You're such a mess," my mother chided, giggling softly. "Hurry, get clean, wear your tunic. I shall fix your arrangements," she said with a wink.

I smiled at her. "Ahh..." I started, but before I could even begin, she pushed me gently to the house. "Bathe," she ordered.

I deliberately walked swiftly across the wooden floors of the house, not bothering to look at my father as he looked curiously upon me. I headed straight to the bathroom, where I found a tub with the warm water - as I like it - and my robe. I undressed and gently dipped my foot in the water, testing it. Then, I jumped in.

Silently the water jiggled as I plunged the entire of my body in the tub. It was warm. It was wonderful, considering the stress I've gone through the day. Not as much stress as my father, but still stress. I put my head below water level, enjoying the cool on every inch of my skin.

I scrubbed myself clean, and after that, I didn't sit long in the tub, knowing that the feast was about to begin. I couldn't miss it for the world. I wore my robe and trotted to my room.

Just as I expected, I thought. I smiled, seeing the clothes she had prepared. The royal tunic, blue and orange and intricately laid with different designs. The long-sleeved overshirt and pants. But one that caught my attention was the two conspicuously placed earrings that were pinned by the side of the tunic. Made by her, I suppose, I thought as I fingered it.

It was solid silver - and not steel, as she usually used - and was shaped like a cube. And that was it. Weird, perhaps, but she was a master of Kuruta Art... maybe that was her style.
I wore the clothes, making sure I don't forget the earrings. I have to thank her, then, I thought, and fingered the earring once more.

I blinked, realizing I've dazed a little too long. I wore the shoes that matched my tunic and stepped out of the room. I had a smile, and I was happy.

I walked out triumphantly in all royalty, only to be greeted by mother, fear easily seen in her already blood-red eyes, another 'treasure' of the Kurutas. "Kurapika, my son, Kurapika, you have to run," she said in quiet fear as her voice rattled. "Here, take this, and run, run toward the direction of the rising sun, run as far as you can go," she ordered, handing me my Katanas. Her voice was ragged and tired, and felt anything but warm and motherly.

East? She wants me to go east? I thought, bewildered. "Mother, why? Is there something wrong?" I asked, feeling a cold, fearful chill run down my spine. A fight? I thought with fear.

"There is no time to talk, Kurapika. You have to run," she ordered, her voice hoarse. It was pretty obvious there was something wrong, as I felt my hands tremble with my grip on the Katanas. They suddenly felt ten tons heavy.

Silence emerged between the two of us, but our eyes clearly stated what we wanted to say. Mine probably screamed a, "THIS IS NOT RIGHT!" , but my mother's clearly was all about care. And love. and tender affection.

"I'd rather be fighting, mother!" I shouted, my voice barely faltering at the end. "This is cowardice!"

"No. What's bravery, my son, is living for your people," Mother said. Her voice laced with total concern, I was worried about leaving her. "Kurapika, you are the heir, and we know you are worthy. You have finished the training, and we believe you can make it without a helping hand," she whispered now, gripping my shoulders. The last three words she told to me were almost in a hiss. "Now go. Run!" Mother pushed me away as she turned around in a run, to, the opposite direction she sent me off to.

Hesitating, I dashed off, and my mind tried to recall the path as I wound through the path in the forest. And even though I got lost somewhere along the road, I still ran, feeling the twigs and the splinters boring deep through my flesh. When I felt like I've gone far enough, - the river north to our house, but east in the map - which means when I felt tired, I slumped on a rock but still kept my guard, I gripped the katana tightly in my sweaty and shaking little hands. I lowered my head down to hide behind the bushes and hope the trees would be a good enough a hiding place. The chains that tied my double-katanas rattled an almost terrifying tune as I trembled. My mom scared the hell out of me. What did she say about being the heir? Being worthy? And making it? ... are they leaving me?

I shook my head in quiet disgust. My family, my clan - and most of all, my mom - wasn't that Cold-hearted. I was loved by most - if not all - people around... I mean that's what I thought.

Or what I believed.

So, in quiet disposition, I leaned on the rock and tried my best to remain calm. I waited.

But later, after times of waiting, there was probably an hour and a half before the sun was to set, and I wondered if the fight was finished. If everybody was safe. If mother was. If father was. If Kohaku was. Staring at the amber sky reminded me of his odd amber eyes, one that no one in my clan has ever had, which made me give that name to him. "Kohaku..." I muttered blankly as a picture of a child flashed in my mind.

I stood up. "Maybe the fight is over," I said, and a smug smile passed through my previously stoic face. With father, I bet we've already won, hours ago, I thought, the smile turning to a grin. Of course. Then I wonder what this running off was for. A joke? I thought, then suddenly a horrid thought passed my mind. They made me miss the ceremony? I laughed. Can't be. But mom... I recalled, her eyes boring in my mind. I shook my head, trying to put away the memory.

I headed for the stream and decided to wash up. Blood started to ooze out the wounds I got from running, but I ignored the pain. After cleaning up all the red mess, I decided to finger the earring again (a habit, maybe, but I don't know) when I realized the left one was missing.

"Oh, oh no..." I whispered as I looked down the ground around where I crouched for the earring. Nothing. I felt my empty ear, to feel a tiny wound that remained where the earring used to be.

The twigs, I winced. That's where I lost it. Wanting to get it back, I fixed myself up again to go back to the woods to look for it.

Staring at the wreck I had left behind, it was pretty obvious that someone had run through the twigs: broken branches, grass parted at a side, a scattered mess. That was definitely something not a nature-like doing.

If my father were there, he would've lectured me on-the-spot about the wrongness of what I have done. That we should respect nature. That as a heir, I was supposed to be the model.
But father, I usually objected in my mind, I'm just a twelve year old!

Then, as if he heard my mind, he'd usually say quietly, "You're already a twelve-year-old, Kurapika."

I giggled a little. Those 'tiny father-son arguments' we're mother's laughing point about the two of us. She'd usually say 'how same we were'. Father would simply brush away his long platinum blonde hair while I rolled my eyes. Mother would only laugh harder.

I searched the grass for anything that might be the earring. But I couldn't find it at all. I frowned, feeling bad about losing something my mother gave me. After deciding that moping around for something that might as well be lost forever was useless, I simply stood up and carefully headed away back to our camp. Ever since I started walking back the direction home, there has been that heavy feeling in my heart that I couldn't explain. I'll ask Okaa-san later, I thought.

"Mother, Father, I'm home," I uttered between my panting breaths as I saw the houses. "Kohaku-chan," I said with a smile, but it was barely a whisper.

As if he heard me, I heard a soft cry from the house I was nearest to. A child, no, a baby's cry. I squinted my eyes, trying recognize the shadows of the building, before finalI realized it was indeed the nursery. "Kohaku," I said, my tone bent with concern. I was almost in the fence when I heard a choking noise. I kept still, surprised. Someone's still in there. I was scared, terrified, yet still ... undaunted. But I kept still.

I couldn't hear anything, even if I did strain my ears. I waited, I waited in the silence until finally, I could hear a loud scraping noise - like a katana blade would to a rock. My father called it 'the sound of friction.' But I know friction causes heat, not sound. But still...

"I think we're done for here, Danchou," a voice called after the door slammed shut. Realizing they will be able to see me, I slipped and leaned on the wall, quietly, forcing my breaths quiet.

"Done for here too, Danchou," another voice called, probably from a woman. There were the rustling of clothes.

Done for here? Done what here? I thought. Another deal with father? But this deal would be suspicious. I know of father and his carousels - when he proposed a deal, he'd propose a feast, too. But this didn't seem so much as a feast.

"Naa, that one you have is little, Ubo," a voice snickered.

"It came from a baby. Never knew babies could have 'em too," a voice replied. The same voice as the first one.

"Let's not waste our time," a voice told them, deep and devious, probably the 'Danchou'. "Let's head downhill."

"Yes, Danchou," the voices answered, I could tell probably more than ten, then rustling of clothes that happen when you jump. No more footsteps.

I waited for a few minutes, shaking hard. What... happened?

When I finally got over all the terror that shook me, the sun was almost to set, the tops of the mountains, barely touching the mountains on the other side. Usually my brother Kikiro and I would look out and watch it, and tell ourselves it has been another beautiful day.

But that day... had been nothing but beautiful.

There was my worst nightmare - left to haunt me for the rest of my life, until I can avenge them, of course - in person. Bodies, no, corpses, of my entire clan, laying out for the vultures on the ground. The grass had been tainted red with their blood. Their bodies tattered like pieces of paper. But the worst sight were their empty sockets. Every. Single. Corpse. Had those staring, blank empty sockets.

"Kohaku!" I remembered, and dashed toward the house. I found Kohaku, still wrapped in his baby-linen, red with blood, his blonde hair red with fresh, warm blood, his pallid face sticky with sweat.

But he had suffered the same fate as the others - no eyes. At all.

At first, it was all but curiousity - what would they want with our eyes? I stared at the setting sun when it dawned on me.

Crimson.

Blood Red.

Our Scarlet Irises.

I blinked, my own irises turning a fiery, burning red. "That was the only damn reason?" I shouted, unafraid I will be heard. "THAT'S IT?"

Then, I tripped on a body, as I was walking through the bloodstained field.

"O-okaa-san..." I muttered, eyes wide open as I stared at the woman. My mother.

Her face was pale, as most of the bodies, but it was filled with determination. Catching sight of the blood-stained ivory tanto in her right hand proved that fact. She fought til the very end.
And that - her own pallid face, her own empty sockets, her own pained expressions. That's what sent my fire burning.

And that's where it all started.