Hachijo Island was drowning.
The rain fell in a heavy, unrelenting curtain, white and freezing. Massive droplets splattered against the mud, creating a chaotic chorus of countless tiny splashes. Through this wall of water, a small, gaunt figure struggled to run. Every step he took was a battle against the earth; his feet sank into the mire, leaving deep, jagged footprints that the deluge immediately began to erase.
The boy looked no older than eleven or twelve, his clothes little more than tattered rags clinging to his skeletal frame. His dark, seaweed-like hair was plastered to his forehead, dripping into a pair of startling heterochromatic eyes—green on the left, gold on the right.
His face was a map of horror. A crescent-shaped gash had been carved into his cheek, stretching from the corner of his mouth to his earlobe. The raw, red muscle lay exposed like a canyon, a grotesque mark of a "family" that viewed him only as livestock.
Coiled around his neck like a living scarf was a small white snake. Its vertical pupils were fixed on the rain-swept path behind them, its tongue flicking incessantly. It sensed the predator.
Shua—shua—shua—
The sound of massive scales dragging over wet mud cut through the roar of the rain. It was a rhythmic, death-inducing curse that pierced straight through Iguro Obanai's heart.
He reached up, his trembling fingers gently unwinding the small snake. With a final, desperate surge of strength, he threw the creature into the thick brush.
"Kaburamaru, run!" Obanai's voice was a hysterical rasp.
In the foul, lightless dungeon where he had spent his life, Kaburamaru had been his only friend—his only family. He could accept his own death, but not the death of the only creature that had ever shown him kindness.
Obanai fumbled with a jagged dagger he had hidden. It was a blade meant for his own suicide, a way to cheat the monster of its meal, but in this final moment, he chose to use it to spit in the eye of fate.
The rain curtain exploded. A gargantuan shadow burst forth—a nightmare of flesh and scales. The upper body was that of a woman, but her mouth was a cavern of needles, her face twisted into a mask of predatory glee. Below the waist, she was a massive black serpent, her tail whipping through the mud like a scythe.
"Keep running, little snack!" the snake demon hissed, her yellow eyes gleaming. "Such a boring chase. Wouldn't it be easier to just die quietly?"
"Go to hell, you monster!" Obanai spat. He lunged, gripping the dagger with white-knuckled desperation. He knew it was futile, but he refused to die like a lamb.
"All the wealth of your family came from my belly!" the demon laughed, flicking her tail. The impact sent Obanai soaring through the air. The dagger vanished into the tall grass.
Cough! Cough!
Obanai slammed into the mud, the air leaving his lungs in a painful burst. He could feel his ribs grating together, but he refused to scream. He stared up at the demon, his gaze filled not with fear, but with a pure, concentrated hatred that seemed to burn even through the freezing rain.
The demon unhinged her jaw, her throat expanding like wet clay as she prepared to swallow him whole.
At that exact second, the world turned white.
A vertical arc of searing Sword Qi sliced through the rain, glowing with the intensity of a miniature sun. It caught the snake demon mid-lunge, severing nearly half of her massive body. Black, foul-smelling blood sprayed into the rain.
The demon shrieked, her body recoiling in shock. A Pillar? Here?!
Without a second thought, she turned and fled, her serpentine body vanishing into the darkness of the trees at a speed born of pure survival instinct.
"Child! Stay where you are! I'll be right back!"
Rengoku Shinjuro's voice was like a furnace, dispelling the chill of the storm. He was a golden blur as he pursued the monster, his footsteps thudding rhythmically against the earth before fading into the distance.
Obanai lay in the mud, staring at the spot where the golden man had been. For a fleeting second, he felt a spark of yearning—a hunger for the power to fight back. But the darkness quickly closed in. I am the son of sinners, he thought. I deserve to rot in this rain.
"Hello there."
The voice was different—not the roar of a furnace, but the soft, steady warmth of a spring breeze. Obanai looked up. Standing over him was a boy about his own age, his golden eyes bright and clear.
Tendo Feiyuzhen opened an umbrella, shielding Obanai from the freezing downpour.
"My name is Tendo Feiyuzhen. What's yours?"
Obanai looked away, his heart hammering. Why was this person looking at him like that? Why didn't he look disgusted by the wound on his face or the filth on his skin?
Tendo reached into the brush and pulled out a small, wet white snake. He held it out gently. "An important family member like this... you shouldn't just throw Kaburamaru away again."
Obanai's breath hitched. "How did you..."
Kaburamaru immediately slithered back to his rightful place around Obanai's neck. The boy struggled to his feet, but as soon as he was upright, he instinctively stepped out from under the umbrella, back into the rain.
"I am Iguro Obanai," he said coldly, his voice trembling. He felt a deep, piercing inferiority. He was a vessel for vile, blood-stained history. He wasn't worthy of standing in the dry shade of another's kindness.
"Tendo Feiyuzhen. Nice to meet you, Obanai," Tendo said, ignoring the boy's attempt to distance himself. He stepped forward, bringing the umbrella back over both of them. "You'll get sick if you stay drenched. And think about the snake; snakes hate the cold."
"A snake can't get sick from rain," Obanai muttered, though he stopped moving away. He looked at Tendo with a bewildered intensity. "Why are you helping me?"
Tendo offered a brilliant, uncomplicated smile. "Because I wanted to. That's all."
Obanai was stunned. It was the first time in his life he had heard a reason that wasn't tied to greed, sacrifice, or blood.
The sound of footsteps returned—rapid, rhythmic thuds. Shinjuro was coming back. Tendo felt a wave of relief, his shoulders relaxing. With a Pillar nearby and the snake demon handled, the danger was—
Wait.
Tendo's internal "spider-sense" suddenly screamed. The air didn't turn hot; it turned frigid.
A streak of deep, abyssal blue tore through the rain from the opposite direction of Shinjuro. It was another demon—one that had been lurking in the shadows, waiting for the Pillar to leave.
Tendo's hand went for his hilt, but his reaction was a fraction of a second too slow. His confidence in the "plot" and the Pillar's strength had dulled his edge.
"Get down!" Tendo roared.
With no time to draw, Tendo threw his entire weight against Obanai, shoving the smaller boy into the safety of a nearby hollow tree. He turned just as the blue shadow reached him, the cold claws of a second predator gleaming in the dark.