Blood Stained Dawn
Chapter 1: Ashes of a Mother
Tokyo, early 2000s. Night. Neon lights flicker across the wet streets as rain pours endlessly. The city looks alive, but beneath the glow, it rots.
Inside a cramped apartment, nineteen-year-old Marco Renji sits silently by a cracked window. His reflection in the glass looks broken, twisted by grief and emptiness. On the wall hangs a cracked photo frame — Marco and his mother, Riko Renji, smiling from happier days.
The door creaks open. Riko steps inside, still wearing her diner apron, exhaustion heavy in her eyes. She forces a smile.
"Sorry, Marco… dinner will be simple tonight. You don't mind, right?"
Marco shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"I don't care about the food, mom. I just care that you came home safe."
For a moment, there is warmth in the small apartment. Fragile. Precious.
Then — a knock at the door.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
Riko freezes. Fear flickers in her eyes. Slowly, the door opens, and two men in black suits step inside without invitation. One hides a silenced pistol in his coat, his expression blank, dangerous.
Marco ducks behind the kitchen wall, his heart pounding. He peers out as his mother faces them, trembling yet defiant.
"You saw something you shouldn't have," one thug mutters coldly. "Orders are orders."
The gunshot is deafening. BANG.
Blood splatters across the wall. Riko collapses to the floor, lifeless. Marco's eyes widen in horror as he watches from the shadows. He rushes to her side, trembling hands pressed against the wound, but the warmth is already fading from her body.
The thugs glance back.
"Leave the kid. He won't last long in this city anyway."
And then they leave.
Marco clutches his mother's body, blood soaking his hands. His voice breaks into a whisper.
"Why… why her? Why not me?"
Grief twists into rage. His tears burn away, leaving only fury.
"I swear… I'll burn their world to the ground."
---
Days later. A dark alley. Marco stalks a low-level syndicate thug, gripping nothing but a kitchen knife. His breath trembles, his steps are unsteady, but his eyes burn with hatred.
"Kid? What the hell are you—"
The thug never finishes. Marco lunges, driving the knife deep into his throat. Blood sprays across the wall. Marco stumbles back, horrified at the warmth soaking his skin. His whole body shakes.
Narration: Killing was easy. Living after it… wasn't.
Unseen from above, a shadowy figure watches from a rooftop. Jun Takeda, an older assassin with a sharp gaze. He smirks faintly.
"So… the boy chooses blood. The syndicate won't ignore this."
Marco stares at his trembling, bloodstained hands. His knife clatters to the ground. Inside, only one vow echoes:
Kurogumi… I'll bury every last one of you.
The path of vengeance has begun.