Fujin is taking a stroll through the village.
The village was small. A few dozen houses clustered around a central road, with rice paddies on one side and forest on the other. Fujin had walked its paths a hundred times, always with his mother or father holding his hand.
Today he walked alone.
Not far. Just to the well and back. His mother was watching from the house. He could feel her eyes on him. But for the first time, she let him go without calling him back.
The air was warm. Spring was settling in. Fujin kicked a small rock down the road and watched it bounce.
He heard the shouting before he saw it.
"Give it back."
"I didn't take anything."
"You're lying. You Fushiguro always lie."
Fujin stopped.
The voices came from behind the grain store. A narrow alley where the shadows sat thick even at midday. He didn't need the Mind's Eye to feel the tension there. Anger. Fear. The sharp edge of cruelty.
He walked toward it.
Three boys stood in a half-circle. The biggest one, maybe ten years old, held a wooden practice sword. His clothes were fine. Clean. The kind of fabric that didn't come from this village. Behind him, two smaller boys snickered with their arms crossed.
Against the wall, two children crouched. A boy and a girl. Same dark hair. Same dark eyes. Same worn clothes that had been patched too many times.
The boy had a cut on his lip. The girl was crying.
"Give it back," the big boy said again.
"I don't have it," the boy against the wall said. His voice was steady even though his hands were shaking.
"I saw you take it. My father's coin purse. You think you can steal from the chief's house?"
Fujin stepped into the alley.
All heads turned.
The big boy looked him up and down. A four-year-old in simple clothes. Nothing special.
"What do you want, kid?"
Fujin tilted his head.
"What's your name?"
The boy blinked.
"What?"
"Your name. You have one, right?"
The boy puffed out his chest.
"My father is the village chief. My name is Haru. Not that it matters to someone like you."
Fujin nodded slowly.
"Haru. Nice name. Shame about the personality."
Haru's face reddened.
"What did you say?"
Fujin walked past him. Stopped in front of the two children against the wall. They looked up at him with wide eyes. The boy had a bruise forming on his cheek. The girl clutched a small bundle to her chest.
"Are you okay?" Fujin asked.
The boy nodded slowly.
Haru grabbed Fujin's shoulder.
"I'm talking to you."
Fujin looked at the hand on his shoulder. Then at Haru.
"Take your hand off me."
"Or what? You're what, four? Your father is a nobody. Your mother was a shrine maid—"
Fujin's hand moved. Not fast. Not with any technique. Just a simple slap to the wrist. Haru's hand fell away.
"You should look at people before you make threats," Fujin said quietly.
Haru stared at his wrist. Then at Fujin. His face shifted from surprise to anger.
"You little brat."
Fujin's eyes narrowed.
"Brat?"
"You heard me. A nobody brat from a nobody family. You think you can talk to me like that? My father owns this village. He could have your family thrown out tomorrow. Your father would lose his hunting rights. Your mother would have to beg for—"
"Shut up."
Haru stopped.
Fujin stepped closer. He was four. He barely came up to the older boy's chest. But something in his voice made Haru take a half step back.
"You walk around this village throwing your father's name like it makes you special. It doesn't. You're not strong. You're not smart. You're just loud. And loud people are usually the ones with nothing real to say."
Haru's mouth opened and closed.
Fujin kept going.
"Your father is the chief? Good for him. What are you? What have you done? You steal from your own house and blame other kids. You hit people smaller than you because you know they can't hit back. That's not strength. That's cowardice wrapped in nice clothes."
In his head, Shukaku laughed.
"Keep going. Call him a worm. I like this."
Fujin ignored him.
"You want to know what I see? I see a boy who knows his father's title is the only thing keeping him from being exactly what he's calling these kids. Nothing. Less than nothing. At least they have the guts to look you in the eye."
Haru's face had gone from red to white.
"My father will—"
"Your father will what? Hear that his son lost a coin purse and blamed a child half his age? That he picked a fight with a four-year-old and lost a shouting match? That's the story you want him to hear?"
The two boys behind Haru had stopped snickering. They were looking at their feet.
Haru's hands balled into fists.
"You're dead."
He swung.
Fujin didn't move. He didn't have to. The punch was slow. Telegraphed from the shoulder. All weight, no control.
Fujin stepped left. Haru's fist hit air.
"Get him!" Haru shouted.
The two smaller boys hesitated. Then they rushed forward.
Fujin watched them come. One was faster than the other. He moved first. A wild swing aimed at Fujin's head.
Fujin ducked. His legs bent, his spine straightened, and he was already moving before the punch finished its arc. His hand caught the boy's wrist. Not hard. Just enough to redirect. The momentum carried the boy forward. His own weight pulled him off balance.
Fujin let go.
The boy stumbled into the wall. His face hit the wood with a dull thud. He slid down, holding his nose.
The second boy came from the side. Kicking. Low, aimed at Fujin's knee.
Fujin saw it coming. His foot moved back. The kick passed through empty space. Fujin stepped in. Close. Too close for another kick. His elbow came up. Not a strike. Just a press against the boy's chest.
The boy staggered. His arms flailed. Fujin's hand caught his collar. Pulled. The boy's legs tangled and he went down hard on his back.
Haru was already swinging again. He had picked up the wooden sword. It came down in an arc.
Fujin didn't dodge. He caught it.
His palm met the flat of the blade. His fingers wrapped around the wood. Haru pulled. Nothing happened. He pulled harder. Fujin's hand didn't move.
"How are you—"
Fujin twisted. The sword came out of Haru's grip. He tossed it aside.
Haru stared at his empty hands. Then at Fujin. His eyes were wet now. Not from courage. From fear.
Fujin stepped forward. Haru stepped back.
"Don't—"
Fujin stopped. He didn't need to hit him. The fight was already over.
He looked at Haru's face. The anger was gone. Just a scared boy who had pushed too far.
"Go home," Fujin said.
Haru didn't move.
"Go home, Haru. And next time you want to blame someone for your mistakes, look in a mirror first."
Haru's lip trembled. Then he turned and ran. His friends scrambled after him. The alley was quiet again.
Fujin let out a breath.
His heart was beating faster than it should. Not from fear. From something else. Something hot in his chest. He pushed it down.
He turned to the two children against the wall.
They were staring at him. The boy had his arm around his sister. Both of them had the same expression. Shock. Wonder. A little bit of fear.
Fujin smiled.
"It's okay. They're gone."
The boy swallowed.
"You... you're just a kid."
"I know."
"How did you do that?"
Fujin shrugged.
"I practice."
The girl peeked out from behind her brother. Her face was streaked with tears.
"Is your nose okay?" Fujin asked her.
She touched her face. No blood. Just dirt.
"It's fine."
Fujin nodded. He looked at the boy.
"You have a cut on your lip. It'll heal."
The boy touched his mouth. Winced.
"I know."
A silence settled over them. The sun was higher now. The shadows in the alley had shrunk.
Fujin sat down on a crate. He was tired. Not from the fight. From the walking. His body was still small. Still limited.
"What's your name?" he asked.
The boy looked at his sister. Then back at Fujin.
"Kaito."
"Kaito. That's a good name. And your sister?"
The girl spoke for herself.
"Mei."
"Mei." Fujin nodded. "I'm Fujin."
Kaito frowned.
"You don't have a family name?"
Fujin thought about it. The Ryomen name was something. But not something he wanted to throw around.
"I do. But it's not important right now."
Kaito looked at him strangely.
"You're weird."
"So I've been told."
Mei tugged on her brother's sleeve.
"Kaito. The coin."
Kaito's face tightened. He pulled the small bundle from inside his shirt. A leather pouch. The chief's coin purse.
Fujin looked at it.
"You took it?"
Kaito's jaw set.
"He took our food. Last week. And the week before. He's been stealing from us since our father left. We had nothing. So I took his money. It was ours anyway. He owed us."
Fujin didn't judge. He had read enough about the Heian Era to know how these things worked. The strong took. The weak starved.
"What happened to your father?"
Kaito looked away.
"He was a sorcerer. He went to the capital. He said he would come back. That was two years ago."
Mei's eyes got wet again.
"We don't know if he's alive."
Fujin was quiet for a moment.
"What was his name?"
Kaito didn't answer. His hands were shaking.
Mei spoke instead. Her voice was small.
"His name was Takeshi. Takeshi Fushiguro."
Fujin's heart stopped.
Fushiguro.
The name sat in his head like a stone dropped into still water.
Fushiguro.