"Hikari no Tsurugi." — A blinding light took the shape of a horizontal slash, striking its target.
The hot, vivid blood of the wounded man found rest upon the cold, rocky ground. Dropping to one knee, aware of his grievous wound, the armored figure prepared another strike.
"Why? Why did you have to choose this path, Taiyō?" — The blade gleamed, illuminating the entire area. With a swift, precise motion, the sword came down in a vertical arc. But just before impact, the light of the place was devoured—swallowed by endless darkness.
Black eyes flew open, wide with terror. His breath was ragged, his heart racing as he struggled to calm himself. He glanced around, quickly realizing he was still lying in the tent.
"What? A dream? But it felt so real…" — He raised his hand and stared at it.
Slowly, his heartbeat returned to normal. He sat on the edge of the bed, noticing the absence of the dirty plate he'd left on the side table.
"Excuse me." — Rosary entered the tent, exuding calm confidence.
"Your name is Rosary, right?" he asked, watching her bring in another meal.
"Hm? Yes, that's right." — She answered while still standing.
"Hey, no need to stand there. You can sit too." — He scratched the back of his neck with one hand, patting the mattress with the other to invite her.
The girl accepted the offer and sat beside him. Before long, they were deep in conversation, forgetting the passage of time.
"You're so funny!" — Her infectious laugh escaped as the young man mimicked her and nearly fell off the bed.
"Oh come on, it wasn't *that* funny." — He pretended to be annoyed.
"It was nice talking to you, but I have to go or Grandpa will start worrying." — She waved goodbye and left the tent.
He ate the now-cold meal and lay back down on the bed. Even he couldn't explain the joy he felt. His eyelids were heavy, and his body tired. He fell asleep again.
The next day, the young man sat in the tent, bored.
"I'm coming in." — The old man's face was calm.
"Mr. Thijou? How can I help you?" — The sun was already high in the sky as he sat upright on the bed.
"The other elders and I have reached a decision." — Thijou stood before the bed, and time seemed to slow to a crawl.
"A decision? What kind of decision?" — Waiting for the answer made the boy's heart beat faster.
"Since you have no memory and aren't part of the Holy Force…" — Negative thoughts began to spiral in the young man's mind.
"So?" — The word slipped weakly from his lips.
"We've decided to welcome you, for as long as you need."
The relief washed over him. But before he could speak, Thijou walked to the table and placed a set of clothes down, smiled, and began to leave.
"Ah! Almost forgot—we're expecting you in ten minutes at the village center. Just head straight and turn right."
As Thijou stepped outside, Rosary was waiting nearby. Her face was serious, but filled with curiosity.
"Well?"
"What's with that face, Rosary?" — He replied with a playful tone.
"What do you mean? Did he like the clothes?" — Her face flushed as she asked, while inside the tent, the young man looked at the clothes with a faint smile.
"How would I know, granddaughter?"
"Wha—!" — Her body froze in place for a moment.
"Careful, or he might hear you."
The beautiful blue sky seemed even bluer that day—at least to the young man's eyes. He walked in the clothes Thijou had given him: simple, soft, likely handmade.
"I think he said left… or was it right?" — At the peak of his indecision, the sound of voices caught his attention.
Eventually, he found the village center, where all the villagers were gathered around a fountain. Thijou was speaking with a man and woman. Rosary stood to their left.
"My people!" — A robust voice captured the villagers' attention. The three had just finished their conversation.
"Today, we welcome a new member into our village!" — This time, it was the woman's voice that rang out.
A sudden hush fell over the crowd as murmurs began, people trying to guess who it could be.
"Thank you, Hakuyu and Yukika. I'll take it from here."
To Thijou's right stood Rosary and a woman with braided gray hair. On his left was a man with graying hair tied into a topknot.
"Would you come here, Gachuti?" — Thijou extended his arm toward the crowd.
Hesitantly, the young man stepped forward, placing himself between Hakuyu and Thijou. His confusion was written all over his face.
"Gachuti?" — The man asked in a whisper.
"Since you don't remember your name, I took the liberty of giving you one—if you'll accept it, of course."
"That's fine, I just wanted to know…" — He paused, thinking carefully.
"Go ahead, ask." — Thijou noticed the hesitation.
"What does it mean?"
"Its meaning… is 'the man without memories.'" — The young man's eyes lit up as he looked at the elder, who turned to smile at the villagers.