The temple chamber was silent, yet the weight of what had transpired hung in the air like an unspoken curse.
At the center of the room, beneath the flickering candlelight, a newborn child lay swaddled in deep blue silk embroidered with silver threads. His breaths were soft, steady—completely unaware of the fate forced upon him.
His name was Renjiro.
But to the gathered elders of the Hidden Himetsu, he was no longer just a child.
He was a vessel.
A prison for the Kuragari no Ryuu—a nightmare reborn in human flesh.
---
The Fate of the Mother
A soft groan broke the stillness.
Akane Renjiro stirred, her body aching as she regained consciousness. Her vision was blurred, but the moment her gaze landed on the child resting on the altar, a deep relief flooded her heart.
"He's alive…"
She tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through her body, forcing her back down as she soon realized she was about to follow the steps of her husband. Her limbs were weak, her life force drained from performing the sealing jutsu. Even moving felt like an impossible task.
The doors of the chamber creaked open.
A group of robed elders entered, their faces shadowed by candlelight. At their head was Lord Daisuke, the acting leader of the village—a man of great wisdom but even greater caution.
His sharp gaze flickered toward Akane, then down to the child. His expression betrayed nothing, but the tension in the room thickened.
"The sealing was a success," he finally spoke, his voice calm yet distant. "The Kuragari is bound within the boy."
Akane's grip tightened on the sheets beneath her. "Not just the boy. My son."
Daisuke's gaze did not waver. "Your son is now the vessel of destruction."
A silence settled between them.
Akane's fingers trembled as she pushed herself up, ignoring the searing pain coursing through her body. She had already lost her husband—she would not let them take her child as well.
"I will raise him," she declared. "I will teach him to control—"
"No.A soon to be corspe has no say in this"
The single word cut through the chamber like a blade.
Akane's breath hitched. "What?"
Daisuke took a step forward. "The Kuragari is no ordinary beast. It is not a simple tailed entity or a mere manifestation of power. It is a force of pure abyssal corruption. The moment it stirs within him, the village will be in danger once more."
Akane shook her head, her voice rising. "Renjiro is not a monster!"
"Not yet."
The cold finality in Daisuke's words made her blood freeze.
"You intend to take him from me," she whispered.
Daisuke exhaled slowly, as if steeling himself. "Your life is already coming to an end. The boy will remain in the village. He will be monitored. If he ever shows signs of the Kuragari's influence, we will act accordingly."
Akane's heart pounded. She knew what he meant. If they sensed any threat from Renjiro… they would kill him.
Her nails dug into her palm. "You're afraid of him. Of a child."
"We fear what he will become."
Her throat tightened. The Hidden Himetsu was not a cruel village, but it was one built on pragmatism. Their duty was to protect the world from the darkness—and now, they saw that darkness in her son.
Daisuke turned away. "You will be put to rest beside your husband that is the last form of honour we will give you both."
A pair of masked shinobi stepped forward, ready to take her soon to be corpse away.
Akane's eyes burned with unshed tears. "You plan to make my child a monster after what we his parents sacrificed for the village?"
"It is not my decision alone."
Liar.
She wanted to fight. To run. But her body would not obey. Her vision blurred, exhaustion clawing at the edges of her mind.
The last thing she saw before darkness overtook her was Renjiro—still sleeping peacefully, unaware that his fate had already been decided.
---
The Village's Judgment
The next morning, word had already spread.
The villagers gathered in hushed whispers, their gazes shifting toward the temple courtyard, where the newborn had been placed before the council of elders.
A child. A boy barely a day old.
Yet to them, he was the abyss made flesh.
Mothers clutched their children close. Warriors tightened their grips on their swords. The faces of the villagers were etched with unease, fear, and in some… hatred.
"He should be eliminated," one elder muttered under his breath.
Another scoffed. "You'd kill a newborn? He has done nothing."
"Not yet."
The conversations swirled like a storm.
Daisuke finally raised a hand, silencing the murmurs. His expression was unreadable, but the weight of his next words would shape the boy's entire existence.
"The child will live."
A pause.
"But he will be marked as an outcast."
A brand was placed on Renjiro's future in that moment.
He would not be given a family name. He would not be recognized as a hero. No tales would be sung of his parents' sacrifice. His life would be defined only by the burden he carried.
Daisuke's next words sealed his fate.
"He will be watched at all times. He will live among us, but he will not be one of us."
A murmur of uneasy agreement spread through the council. A child of the abyss could never be trusted.
And so, the decision was made.
Renjiro—the last legacy of the two greatest warriors the village had ever known—was sentenced to a life of solitude.
---
The Mark of Cursed Blood
That evening, a storm rolled in over the Hidden Himetsu.
Inside the temple, Renjiro slept soundly in a small chamber, unaware of the decree passed down against him.
But outside, carved onto the wall above his door, was a symbol painted in ink.
A single mark.
The sign of the abyss.
It was a warning.
A reminder.
And as the storm raged on, the villagers who passed by whispered among themselves.
A hero had not been born that night.
Only a curse.
And one day, when he finally understood the truth—he would never forgive them.