Chapter 1, Part 1 / Intertwining Fates Sealed Within Interchangeable Motions


|-|/ 1 \|-|

Inside a forest, the sounds of grunts coming from a certain man were emerging. He stood himself near a riverside for the increased ambience as he swung the sickle around on the end of a chain with a heavy weight flailing at the other end. This was his trusty weapon of the kusarigama.

He twisted his body and released the weapon at a hanging log, holding onto the metal. Mind you, this hanging log had been idle, thus not moving, so it must have been an easy target, especially since it was only a few meters away from the man.

It was a mistake to assume this, if one didn't know who Murasame Houou was.

The sickle landed a meter short from the log, falling onto the ground. Murasame hadn't understood that he shouldn't be holding onto the chain so tightly if he was looking to extend the range of his attack. That might have been the only mistake, since Murasame also did not put enough throwing force into his attack. In fact, his entire throwing stance had been terrible.

Despite that, Murasame started to laugh.

"Ha ha ha! What a disappointment! Were you really scared of a simple feint like that!?"

This was a log he was talking to.

"You should be thankful that I've taken pity on a lowlife as yourself!"

By the way, Murasame has been at this for about forty-five minutes and he has only made contact with the log about three times during his training session.

"Don't make me rust my precious sickle on unworthy challengers like yourself! You'll tarnish the greatest, the strongest shinobi of Murasame Houou! Even stronger than my dear sister! You hear that!? Even stronger than Ikaruga Houou!"

If it weren't for his tenacious pride, he wouldn't have been talking so loudly like that. With a smile on his face, as satisfied as he was incompentent, Murasame pulled on his chains to retrieve his sickle back into his hand for another attempt.

He spun the sickle in his hand by twirling the chain and after a few rotations, he lashed the weapon outwards once again.

Only to have missed the log by two meters this time.

"Heh heh heh! That was just a warm-up!"

As a reminder, he has been trying to hit an idle log for forty-five minutes as of today exclusively. There needn't be a reason to overlook all the other days.

Although, this type of perseverance was far better than what he was experiencing some time ago. All of his bravado currently stemmed from a good-hearted desire to be better than his talented sister, even if he didn't sound like he was acting as such.

"And now, my special technique!"

—The Houou Family was esteemed in the eyes of the public. They were a large financial institution named under the Phoenix Conglomerate, well-known to even waifs along the streets, and their influence was just as powerful as their identities.

With a single command, they could ruthlessly change the economy of the country, but that wouldn't be in their character to do so. Just as their influence and identities, the head of the Houou Family and the Phoenix Conglomerate was a man with a kind heart as well.

However, the Houou Family was not all that simple.

Behind the shadows, they were deeply involved in the world of shinobis. During his childhood, it was this knowledge for Murasame that inspired him to become a shinobi, continuing the family's legacy and inheriting the rightful position to his father. He wanted to make his parents proud of him, being someone that they could entrust in becoming the heir.

This was not without a tragedy for Murasame.

Despite all his efforts, he failed in becoming even a simple shinobi trainee. Without any aptitude to become a shinobi, Murasame was not even given the right to stand at the starting line. No matter how many times he tried, nothing would go well for him. A mistake here, an accident there. Mishandling, lack of coordination, and lack of control.

Murasame tried everything, but was given nothing.

Without a proper heir, his parents seemingly abandoned him in favor of adopting a child from a distant shinobi clan into their family.

It was a young girl who had been renamed to Ikaruga Houou.

And this supposed sister of his had natural talent. She passed the examination without breaking a sweat and for that, she was provided with the family heirloom, a nodachi named Hein.

A nodachi, one that was supposed to be Murasame's, had been stolen away from an outsider. That was what he earnestly believed and it evolved into a searing hatred for her. He swore that he would take that nodachi back from that outsider no matter what, desperate enough that he wouldn't let anything get in his way.

His life descended into shambles. Murasame was entirely fixated on reclaiming Hein.

All Ikuraga could see in his eyes whenever they met were the stirring darkness of obsession and self-destruction. Something that he couldn't tear away from, always feeling guilt and sorrow for the circumstances that she could not control. To have a brother that always hated her for her mere existence, Ikaruga could only feel partly responsible.

—Anyways, stuff happened and they managed to reconcile.

They're on good terms now.

Murasame did actually end up having a natural talent not for the hidden side of the family, but for the cover side of the family. That was to say, Murasame discovered his impressive financial grip and perception. His parents never actually gave up on him, trying to see if there was any other way that he could step up to the Houou Family name.

If anything, inheriting the banking business of the Houou Family was just as important, if not more, than upholding the shinobi legacy.

Just because Murasame no longer hated Ikaruga and gave him his blessings to be the next wielder of Hein, it didn't exactly mean that Murasame was over the entire ordeal of not being able to be a shinobi. In fact, the only reason he was still "technically" active as one was because he still wanted to outdo Ikaruga in her field of expertise.

If he had a wikipedia page to himself, outdoing Ikuraga might have been listed as one of his hobbies. And honestly, Ikaruga would rather this type of spirited competition than returning to the dark paths that they took to get to this point.

—Ten more minutes passed.

"Okay, I… I think that's enough training for today…"

Lying on the ground, Murasame accidentally wrapped himself up by his own chains after attempting to perform his special ninja art. He never learned the meaning of control, always spinning the chain around as quickly as possible to wipe a large area-of-effect around him, which always caused the chains to loop themselves right back to him.

It wasn't a problem for Murasame though.

This happened so frequently that he was very experienced in setting himself free.

His personal record was thirty seconds.

After untying himself, he brought the log off from its swaying position and set it aside near the river. No one typically came around to these parts, so Murasame used this riverside section of the forest to develop his abilities.

Keeping out his sickle, he noticed there were a few pieces of trash stuck against some rocks. People didn't know any better than to litter, but perhaps it's because people think that since this river is connected to the ocean, the current would just drown out their trash in there.

Regardless, Murasame sighed as he rolled up his white pants, trying to not get them wet. He took off his white formal coat, revealing the navy blue vest underneath and rolled up his sleeves. He was wearing an expensive watch that was connected to his phone, so he set that aside to make sure it wouldn't get wet. His entire clothing attire looked expensive, but his expressions explained another story.

With his dark blue eyes looking slightly unhealthy, aided by the fact that his long black bangs tucking them underneath with a scary flare, Murasame was the definition of compensation. The fancy clothing would help pull people in, not needing to rely on his physical features.

That was why he didn't like getting his clothes all roughed up.

"... Hmm?"

As he was reeling in the trash with his sickle, he noticed there was a strange object against the rocks. It was something that was… frankly too large to be called trash.

He poked at it with his weapon a bit until he noticed that it was actually a body.

And thus, Murasame panicked.

|-|/ 2 \|-|

Murasame wasn't sure what could have possibly possessed him to pull out the person from the water, but somehow, it looked like the person was still breathing. Despite their head being buried in the water. Murasame didn't think too much about it and acted to help out. With heavy gasps of air, realizing that it was more difficult than he expected, all he could do now was swear to himself as he realized his clothes got wet in trying to play savior.

That, and wondering what the hell was going on.

The person was oddly particular.

Their clothing looked like it was ripped all over the place while it was absolutely drenched. It even looked discolored from what was supposed to be a bright white. It had a strange odor from it as well, as if it had been inside the water for a while now. Other than a single piece of clothing, similar to a one-piece gown one would find at a hospital, and thankfully undamaged undergarments, there was nothing else to their name.

Judging from the lack of mounts upstairs and a bulge downstairs, Murasame was thinking that this was a male, but the appearance made it difficult to say that at first. It didn't help that his exposed skin looked almost like the epitome of perfection.

And from the general size of the person, he looked around the age when students would be in their last year of high school. In other words, it's possible that he was a year or two younger than his sister. It was harder to guess that detail though.

However, that hadn't been the particular part.

Murasame left out the elephant in the room, because it was simply so random.

"What the hell is this mask…? This helmet thing?"

He instinctively reached out to see what the black headcover was all about and upon a single touch, it cracked. Murasame didn't think he put too much force into it, and while he gloated to himself that he might have unconsciously done so, it didn't change the fact that the mask was starting to shatter into a handful of pieces.

Little by little, the fragments fell off from the person's head and it eventually exposed his face. Murasame didn't expect to see an androgynous face underneath. His cheeks looked soft to the touch, but it was almost as pale as his white hair. That mask must have been blocking out the sunlight against the boy's face for a while, but Murasame noticed it was barely a change from the skin color on his arms and legs.

The white hair had been unusually long as well. When the mask broke, it unraveled the hair outwards and allowed the hair to spread out like a flower. If he had to say something about it, it might have been a bit shorter than his sister's hair length. In comparison, it was very unkempt and dirty, as if it wasn't taken care of in a long time.

A stray piece of hair did stem out from the top like an antenna, but Murasame's attention already diverted away from the unusual boy.

As Murasame picked up one of the mask pieces, he started to inspect it out of curiosity, but from a simple touch, he sensed it was already sapping his energy. He threw it to the side, not thinking it was anything too important.

"Now then, what do I make of this…?"

Something about this felt dangerous from the mysterious atmosphere this boy was giving off, but there should have been a reason as to why he was drifting off in a river. Judging from the hospital gown, or what Murasame assumed to be one, he could only hypothesize that this boy ran away from a doctor's appointment.

There was a hospital on the way back to his home, so it wouldn't be too difficult to make a quick stop there, but Murasame's thoughts started to wander.

"Wait a minute…" he murmured, rubbing his chin. "If I bring this kid over to the hospital and proclaim that I was the one to rescue him, I'd be seen as more favorable to the city! The eldest son of the Houou Family performed a heroic feat, saving a boy from death! I can already see the headlines now!"

If someone saw Murasame laughing to himself like this, they would probably call the police as to how suspicious it looked.

"..."

"Huh?"

During his laughter though, the boy suddenly opened his eyes.

Almost as if he hadn't understood what was happening, the boy took a few seconds to register his feelings back into his body, lifting up his hand into the sky and turning it slightly. While Murasame was in wary silence, the boy glanced over to meet with Murasame's blue eyes, deeply contrasting with his own dark crimson eyes.

"..."

"Hey, kid. Are you alive? It would be a problem if you were dead."

A rhetorical question, but it was left unanswered. Instead, the boy merely kept his gaze on Murasame, as if studying him out of confusion and intrigue. It was almost as if the boy thought Murasame was the strange one here..

Murasame didn't know what to make of this, but before he could make a quick judgment of it, the boy suddenly made a big yawn. It wasn't… the first thing he expected the boy to do, but afterwards, the boy sat up in his place.

"It feels like… I've been sleeping for a long time…"

His voice, as soft and whimsical as the wind. An innocent smile with joyous laughter.

"Hey, Mister? Could you tell me where I am?"

"Outskirts of the main city. Where else? You wouldn't find a good forest like this inside the heart of Tokyo, now would you?"

"Oh, I see!" The boy smiled happily, leaving only a brief silence in his lagged thoughts. "Wait, I still have no idea where that is."

"You don't know where Tokyo is? Did you just fall from the sky or something?"

"Not sure. I don't remember."

Murasame frowned, raising his eyebrow. "You… You don't remember." He stuck his pinky into his ear, trying to clean it out. "Did I hear that correctly?"

"That is what I said," the boy nodded, laughing as if it was a joke. If only it was one, it would spare Murasame a headache. "Yep! I don't remember anything before I woke up here! It's a bit embarrassing, isn't it?"

This entire mystery started to become a little more complex, given the boy might have amnesia. He sounded too honest to be lying. Murasame was tempted to leave it all there and not ask any further than that, since knowing all of this was meaningless.

Commoners without connections outside of the Houou Family were of no importance to him and Murasame only saw a means to make him look better to the public in front of him, as much as he could anyways. All he had to do was bring the boy to the hospital and leave the questions to the nurses.

Murasame paused a bit, having a bit of doubt however.

"What am I even doing here?"

Pulling himself back into his boisterous mood, Murasame scoffed professionally.

"You were just saved by me, Murasame Houou!" The prideful man pointed to himself from his achievement, leaving out the fact that he was struggling to drag the boy out of the water. "I noticed that you were drowning inside of that river over there and like the generous man I am, I couldn't leave you to sink closer to death's embrace!"

It was a dramatic, perhaps highly dramatized, retelling of what he did to save the boy, but as Murasame went further onwards, he noticed that the boy's red eyes were sparkling.

"You did that for me? I mean, we're strangers, right?"

"That's right. Why the hell would I know someone like you to begin with? The importance of Murasame Houou has its boundaries!"

"Oh, most certainly! You do sound like a very important person! You definitely shouldn't have known someone who could easily lose their memories and all!"

Unfortunately, the boy was eating up all of Murasame's exaggerated explanations in their current form. He endlessly nodded, accepting what Murasame was saying as simple truth, until he wrapped up his story and left the boy to his own thoughts.

"Uhm, wait. Excuse me, Mister Murasame?"

"Heh. I like the sound of that honorific in your tone. What is it?"

"I'm sorry and I don't mean to bring disrespect, but none of what you said brings me closer to what happened to me. If I was drowning in a river, then what was I doing beforehand?"

"I don't know. Why are you asking me? You should already be glad that you're alive."

However, the boy tilted his head and sounded very disinterested for the first time.

"Alive, huh? That's right, I guess… drowning does make people die."

"Yes, and dying is bad. Don't tell me that you forgot something that obvious too."

"... Right." As if understanding Murasame's words, he nodded. "I would have died if you never came to save me and that's… bad. I should properly thank you for what you did."

He knelt down on his knees and lowered his head.

"Thank you, Mister Murasame!"

Murasame smirked. This sort of treatment was doing wonders for his irrational ego.

"It was nothing for a great man such as myself!"

Now that Murasame thought about it, the boy was drowning, right? The helmet made it difficult for him to notice it at first, but if it was as he mentioned it, it would have meant that the boy should have been coughing up water when his consciousness returned.

And yet, that hasn't happened yet.

Added with the fact that the boy didn't seem to be wary of a helmet to begin with. The boy hasn't mentioned the helmet in the slightest and in Murasame's retelling, he completely forgot to mention it himself. It was awfully strange.

—Eh, it wasn't Murasame's problem to pursue, so he shrugged the observations off.

"Look, tell you what. I'll take you to a hospital and we'll part ways there. With my excellent deductive reasoning, I can tell that you came from that nearby hospital. You must have ran off and fell into the river by mistake."

"Really!? How could you tell!?"

"I'm merely that smart!"

"Oooohh."

The boy softly clapped in unbelievable awe, causing Murasame's nose to feel like it was growing longer, when it was really his pretentiousness showing.

Any longer and he might end up tripping over it.

Being somehow able to pull himself off the pedestal for the moment, Murasame glanced at his expensive watch, noticing the time had escaped him, before he looked back up into the sky to see that the sun was already setting.

"Follow me. I have people waiting for me to bring me home. I'll explain to them the situation and if they ask, simply tell them whatever I told you and I'll have them bring you back to the hospital in no time."

"Okay!"

The boy bounced up onto his feet and finally took notice of the mask pieces that Murasame threw to the side. He should probably pick those up and toss them into the fragments once he leaves the forest, but that doesn't require any rush. The mask would be there when he came back and for what it was worth, it didn't look like the boy paid much attention to it either.

It really was a piece of trash.

"Down this path. You better not run off too far or else I won't look as good."

"Yes, of course! I don't want to disturb Mister Murasame's appearance, after all!"

"Heh heh heh…"

Something about this kid was giving Murasame good vibes, but he couldn't tell what it was in comparison to other strangers. Although from a third perspective, it might have been painfully obvious, but from what Murasame was seeing, he was slightly concerned.

For the first time, he was able to see that the boy's gown had circular holes scattered against the back that he was lying on. Murasame couldn't figure out what could have happened to make such a pattern, probably other than gunshots, but that wouldn't be correct.

After all, the boy had no injuries to show for it.

Murasame brought the boy over to the awaiting limousine parked right outside of the forest and retold the story back to his chauffeurs and bodyguards, letting the boy be amazed as to how important Murasame had been.

Once inside the vehicle, the chauffeur drove them to their destination.

|-|/ 3 \|-|

"I'm sorry, but we have everyone accounted for in this hospital."

The receptionist checked her computer once again and ended with another shake of her head. "There's no one that has been reported to be missing. I don't see any other emergency notifications from other hospitals concerning missing patients either."

"Are you serious? I'm certain that he came from some hospital. I mean, look at him!"

"Yeah, it's as Mister Murasame says! If he says I came from a hospital, it must be so! He's a very smart and important person, so it must be the case!"

"... Unfortunately, I don't see anything concerning this particular case."

She turned to the boy, pondering about his appearance. The receptionist might have been confident to have seen a boy like him or at the very least, he would have been a brief topic among the other nurses and staff, but this was the first time she has ever heard of such a person.

"Say, what was your name? Maybe I'll perform a search from the ground-up."

"It's…" The boy's thoughts suddenly died on the spot, being as linear as a heart monitor. Murasame could have sworn he heard the flatline beep. "Uhm…"

"Mister Houou did mention that you had amnesia, but to think that something like this had happened." Her voice shifted slightly to monotone. "You're quite an amazing person to have saved him by being in the right place and the right time."

"It's simply the natural luck of the Houou Family. Would you really think that someone as esteemed as Murasame Houou would leave someone to drown like that before his own eyes?"

"Of course not. The Houou Family is held in high regard here. With the donations made by your father to the various hospitals around Tokyo, we wouldn't be too surprised if his eldest child had the same heart, if not bigger, than him."

While it was a positive response from the receptionist, Murasame always felt like they were complimenting his position and not himself. It still felt good to hear, but it didn't sound all that genuine, as if they were reading off a script in order to make sure that they wouldn't offend him in any shape or form.

"If only you acted a little bit more like your sister…"

Murasame chose to ignore the little mutter under the receptionist's voice. Those were really the true colors that they were suppressing when dealing with someone like him.

"Whatever." Murasame turned around as the boy was still mulling in his thoughts. "I still have important things to do. The life of the future heir to the Houou Family lacks free time. Meetings to meet and presentations to present, even at home! That's simply how things are!"

That was a lie.

Murasame was a man who deeply believed that work stays at work. All he really wanted was to take a shower and follow it with a nap. He had to reward himself with something after what monumental accomplishments he made today, but he liked to keep up his image of being work-savvy to outsiders.

"You can leave the boy here." The receptionist made a slight bow, one significantly lacking than the one the boy provided. "We'll figure out what's happening here, so you can—"

"I remember! I think my name was… Isayuki!"

"You think?" the receptionist asked, not bothering to complete her prior thought. It might have been in the interest of everyone present for her to do so.

"I mean, I think someone called me by that name before. I'm… honestly not too sure."

Following his dejected mulling, Murasame swore that the hair antenna folded according to his emotions. It might have a nerve of its own.

"And your family name, Isayuki?"

"I don't remember."

Compared to his first name, Isayuki was far more confident in his lack of memory concerning the rest. Murasame glanced backwards briefly and stood by the door, slightly curious as to how it would play out. Though, he would be more truthful to say that he simply wanted to ensure that the story of his heroic feat would be spread properly.

"Let me see…"

After a few clacks on the keyboard, the receptionist shook her head.

"No, there's nothing. Without a family name, it makes these searches extremely difficult in both practicality and confidentiality."

"Mister Murasame said I was supposed to be here! He has to be right!"

"Alright, if you say so." The receptionist sighed at the insistence. "Despite your current predicament, we'll take you in for a check-up if Mister Houou requests for it. We shouldn't be leaving a high-schooler by himself if he has amnesia in the first place. Besides, the propinquity to death might have affected you, so it would be important to make a proper examination."

Murasame had a feeling that the story of Isayuki's rescue would be conveyed properly if Isayuki was the one to be interviewed. If it was based on the receptionist alone, he didn't think this story would survive to see the ones-and-zeros of online articles. If it weren't for Isayuki, Murasame would have thought this would have been a waste of his precious time and effort.

He walked out, letting the automatic doors open up for him.

"You're leaving already?" Isayuki's voice called out to Murasame.

He glanced over his shoulder, trying to look cool. He even pulled on the collar of his white dress shirt as if he was a big deal. "When you're as busy as me, you'll understand that I can't be spending my time standing around like this waiting. It's nothing personal."

"Oh, alright." Isayuki looked a little depressed, but he still toughed it out and gave a big wave to him. That damned hair antenna must have a mind of its own, pulling most of Murasame's attention as it straightened up in spirit. "I'll see you later, Mister Murasame!"

Murasame didn't think he would actually be meeting the boy ever again after ditching him at the hospital. If it cheered up Isayuki to give the boy a better impression of Murasame, then it might have been worth the effort to wave back.

"I guess so. See you, uhm… Yeah."

—By the way, Murasame did not bother to even learn Isayuki's name in the slightest.