Gyutaro was born on the banks of the Rashomon River, the lowest pit of the Entertainment District.
Here, everyone had to claw with everything they had just to stay alive. Anyone deemed useless simply wasn't raised. From the moment he became aware of the world, he understood one thing.
No one had ever wanted him to be born.
Even so, he struggled to survive on the scraps of care his mother gave him. He had been aborted countless times before he was even born. Afterward, she beat him, cursed him, and everyone who saw him wished for his death.
Still, he wanted to live. Yet even after fighting so hard just to survive, he never understood why he was alive at all.
He inherited his mother's illness. From birth, he was grotesque, his body covered in dark blotches that repulsed others. Malnourished for years, he was thin and brittle like dead branches. Unlike other children born here, he was useless.
Once she realized he had no value, she stopped helping him altogether, even saying outright that she wished he would die rather than become a burden. At the time, he was only four years old, just barely old enough to remember things.
After being cast out, he survived by drinking muddy water, digging up roots, and eating whatever rats, insects, or ants he could catch. Simply staying alive consumed all his strength, leaving him with no energy to care for himself.
Filth caked his body. Grease clung to his skin. Fleas infested him. A stench followed him everywhere.
What kind of person would ever grow close to a child like that?
In a place like the Entertainment District, where beauty was everything, his ugliness only made him more hated.
Vermin. Trash. Maggot. Freak.
It was as if every insult in the world had been invented just for him. Even the only "toy" he ever had was a rusted sickle someone had discarded on the street.
So he never expected anything from the world. He believed that if he didn't take from others first, he would be the one robbed. If he didn't steal, he would lose everything.
After all, the heavens had never shown him even a hint of kindness.
No one had ever cared about him.
Until he met Ume.
The first time he saw her, she was so small he could hold her securely in one hand. Her skin was smooth like a peeled egg, her voice soft and delicate, her blue eyes as clear as a summer sky.
She was like something shaped from every word of praise in the world. Like a tiny, flawless spirit.
When he kept staring at her, their estranged mother spoke coldly:
"She's your sister. Her name is Ume."
"Ume…?"
"That's right. I called you back to tell you this. Everything I spent raising you, you're going to earn it back and repay me. Since you survived, you owe me. Understood?"
He agreed.
To him, if he repaid everything, then the rest of his life would finally belong to him. It was obvious.
His mother had only brought him back to help raise Ume.
After leaving that crumbling house, he couldn't stop thinking about her. It was the first time anyone had looked at him without malice.
But what shocked him most was this.
Other children would burst into tears the moment they saw him.
Ume didn't.
Why didn't she cry?
For the first time in his life, he became curious about something other than survival.
After that, he continued stealing and robbing to stay alive, keeping only what he needed and giving everything else to his mother.
She was never afraid of him.
Every time she saw him, she smiled sweetly.
…Like a little idiot.
That's what he thought.
And yet, he couldn't help paying more and more attention to her.
Until one day, when he came to deliver supplies, he saw her clinging to their mother's rotting corpse, crying.
He didn't care. As usual, he set things down and turned to leave.
But she stumbled toward him and wrapped her arms around his leg.
"Onii-chan… don't leave me alone… please…"
He looked down at her, forcing a harsh expression.
"You're not scared of me?"
"I'm not. You're my onii-chan."
She clung tightly to him. Even as a child, her beauty was already beginning to show.
"Did I do something that made you hate me? I'll fix it, I promise. Please don't leave me alone. Please, onii-chan…"
Those clear blue eyes reflected him completely.
There was nothing in them but reliance.
And pleading.
Why aren't you afraid? Just because I'm your brother?
Driven by that question, he stayed.
He dealt with their mother's decaying body, then brought all his things inside. In that short time, Ume, locked inside to keep her from wandering off, had already cried until her face was a mess.
He reached out to wipe her tears.
But his hands were filthy.
The more he wiped, the dirtier her face became.
"This won't do… You're not like me. You've got such a pretty face. You need to smile more. That way, people will like you."
But she only pressed herself against him, quietly sobbing.
She didn't care about the filth on him at all.
Her small hands clutched tightly at his clothes, as if terrified he might leave her again.
He knew how to deal with hatred.
But he didn't know how to respond to something like this.
So he just sat there stiffly, letting her cry.
For the first time in his life, he didn't feel disgusted by someone's touch. Instead, her dependence stirred something inside him.
The first positive feeling he had ever known.
He didn't understand it. Didn't know how to express it.
But for the first time, he felt like the world wasn't entirely rotten.
Looking at Ume, who had cried herself to sleep against him, he made a quiet decision.
At least until the day she, too, came to hate him, he would protect this little sister.