The boy's breath came in sharp bursts as his feet pounded against the mountain pathway, each step echoing off the stone walls that flanked the winding descent toward Kinugawa. His midnight-blue hakama rustled with each desperate stride, the formal pleats now disheveled from his flight. The elegant silk of his kimono, once pristine with its silver water-thread embroidery, clung to his chest with perspiration as he navigated the treacherous curves that led down from Moonlight Valley.
Behind him, the distant shouts of pursuit grew fainter, but the boy knew better than to slow his pace. Every shadow between the cherry trees could hide a pursuer, every bend in the path could reveal armed men blocking his escape to the port city below. His wide-brimmed ayaigasa bounced slightly with each hurried step, the translucent blue-to-silver veil that hung from its edge dancing in the mountain breeze.
The sound of approaching footsteps forced the boy to dart behind the massive trunk of an ancient cedar, its bark rough against his silk-clad back. He pressed himself into the shadows, controlling his ragged breathing as he tilted his hat down and peered through the dark veil. His amber eyes, glowing with an inner intensity that no true Kagoshiman possessed, tracked the movement of the lone guard who had broken away from the main search party.
Sweat beaded on his almond-brown skin, rolling down his temple as he watched the uniformed man slow his approach, scanning the pathway with practiced caution. The guard's hand rested on his katana's hilt, ready to draw at the first sign of movement.
"Ren Kairo-sama!" the guard called out, his voice carrying the formal respect due to a noble heir, even a fleeing one. The name hung in the mountain air like a curse, confirming what the boy had hoped to leave behind in the valley above.
Kairo's jaw tightened at the sound of his own name, spoken with such misplaced reverence. The boy pressed deeper into the tree's shadow, fighting the urge to flee further down the path. Every instinct screamed at him to run, but he knew the guard would spot any movement in the open.
The man took another step closer, his voice dropping to a gentler tone as he continued his approach. "Kairo-sama, where are you? Please... you must return. Your father is going to be very angry."
The mention of his father sent a lance of cold fury through Kairo's chest, his amber eyes flashing dangerously behind the veil. His fingers unconsciously tightened around the leather-wrapped hilt of his wakizashi, the weight of the short blade suddenly feeling heavier at his side.
"Please, Kairo," the guard continued, his footsteps slow and deliberate as he drew nearer to the boy's hiding place. "This is not the time for a chase. It's the fourth of Auralis, the month of unity. The cherry blossoms have bloomed beautifully this year, and..." The man's voice took on a note of genuine pleading. "Today is your sister's birthday. Please, Ren Kairo-sama."
The words struck deeper than any blade. Amelia's birthday—the sister who had become everything he could never be, the normal child, the acceptable heir. The boy felt something twist in his chest, a pain sharper than any physical wound.
In one fluid motion, Kairo emerged from behind the tree, his feet silent on the moss-covered stone as he circled behind the guard. The man never heard him approach, never sensed the danger until cold steel kissed his throat.
"Shhh," Kairo whispered, his breath warm against the guard's ear as he pressed the wakizashi's edge against the man's neck. The boy's other hand gripped the man's shoulder, holding him perfectly still.
"How many have followed me?" Kairo's voice was barely a breath, but the steel in it was unmistakable.
"Ren-sama..." the guard began, his voice trembling.
The boy pressed the blade a fraction deeper, drawing a thin line of crimson. "How many?"
The man's body went rigid, his words coming in a stammered whisper. "F-five... five including myself, Ren-sama. They're... they're searching the eastern paths..."
Kairo's grip tightened on the wakizashi's hilt, his amber eyes burning with cold determination. The guard's life hung by a thread, one quick slice away from—
Thwip.
An arrow sliced through the air mere inches from Kairo's face, the fletching brushing against his veil and sending the delicate fabric rippling in the wind. For a heartbeat, the boy's shocked amber eyes were visible—molten gold in sharp contrast to the dark brown eyes of true Kagoshimans, alien and inhuman in their intensity.
Then the veil settled back into place, and both hunter and hunted froze in the sudden, terrible silence of the mountain path.