Disclaimer: I do not own rights for Yami No Matsuei, and my renditions of this scene are completely my idea, so nobody sue. …Seriously. ; That would not be cool.

Note: I know that this particular character is not widely liked by some, but maybe I can change how you feel. Give it a chance?

(Nagre's confession)

The esteemed Kurosaki family… plagued by curses, misfortunes and a demon God. Not the kind of family someone would have wanted to be raised in. On the surface, though, it was a respected family and an honorable lineage, but underneath, within the hearts of those who knew the legend, there was only fear and hatred.

Nagre thought about this as he wandered through the garden. The sun had recently gone down and the heat from it was starting to leave. He gazed at the slumbering plants that seemed to curl away from him. Was it out of disgust? Perhaps, he thought, they knew of all the horrible things he had done in his life. He could not deny them. He had been a monster, of sorts, even to his own kin; but he was a man, the head of the family, and there were guidelines set in place for him to follow. Even the head of the family could not do as he pleased.

Sighing, the man walked out to a small area lit with candles and covered in beautiful lilies and sat upon a rock, overlooking two small gravestones. He often went to sit there, mulling over his past judgements and hating himself deeply inside. These were things, though, that were unbecoming of a man in his time. Feelings were unnecessary in public, but when he sat there, nothing could be contained. Though it stung, he removed his blindfold and opened his demonic eyes, letting them soak in the light of the blood red moon. His now-scaly hands lay folded in his lap and he simply sat there for a long time, letting the breeze move through his long hair.

It would seem strange to someone, he thought, to look at the two graves and see upon them the same name, but it did not bother him. In fact, when he looked at them, he saw something… dark. Maybe it was his own guilt at not being able to save them. The first Hisoka, his daughter, was unfortunate enough to be born female. The whole of the Kurosaki family frowned upon that, and her fate was sealed from the beginning. Nagre's little girl…

He recalled the day she was born. It was a home birthing, as was tradition, and as he held the child in his arms, he almost smiled. She was a good size for a newborn, and she was so giddy, even then, wiggling around in his arms as he held her. But, as he looked down at her a sickening feeling suddenly overcame him. This couldn't last… There was a darkness deep within him, and the longer he stared at the child, the more something ached inside him. She died soon after. For a few years, Nagre hardly spoke. What was he supposed to say, anyway? His child, his heir, had died.

But, things eventually changed. Soon, another child was born; a boy, whom Nagre named Hisoka. Unlike his sister, this Hisoka was born very quiet. He barely cried, moved, or acted out, and when he was a few years old, he was a model son, a model heir. Nagre could spend very little time with him because of his status, but Hisoka seemed okay with that. Every now and then, the two of them would go for a walk throughout the garden. Unfortunately, just like with his first child, that strange, sickening feeling began to form.

It was hard to believe that something was wrong, and Nagre didn't want to believe it, but they were, indeed, cursed. It was only a matter of time before he saw it, himself. By the time he was five years old, Hisoka had begun to show signs of a strange ability- being able to read people's emotions. It frightened the attendants and actually his mother, as well. Nagre was not as affected at first, but he could not allow Hisoka's power to be known, and he had no other choice. Hisoka was ordered deep away from prying eyes, until he died, mysteriously.

"It was painful… doing what I did. Being the head of the household means you have to do things… that you just don't want to do. It's not freedom… it's really not. It's a horrible position, that, you children wont have to see."

Nagre looked down at his hands and rubbed his fingers over the scales that had formed there. The curse was real. His body, if not his soul, was now a prisoner of a demon, and his only release would be a slow and painful death. If his children had lived, they would be just as unfortunate.

"You may think me cruel, but I'm grateful that your lives were extinguished young… you did not have to bear the weight of this dark and dirty world. Though I could not see you grow up, I know you're better off."

Behind him, the attendants were walking about, calling his name. He hardly got a moment to himself lately, but apparently, he had visitors. Sighing, Nagre rose from the stone and lightly touched the gravestones, staring down as lovingly as he could.

"I know you can't hear me now, but I always loved you… Despite all my wicked deeds… I loved you."