Hiro

Japan. 19th century. Autumn in the small village of Shirakawa-go on the outskirts of the mountain. Residents were preparing for winter, and the markets were bustling with activity: everyone was looking for the best for their loved ones. Rumors circulated in the village about a nine-tailed kitsune in the forest, able to take the form of a person or creature. Kitsune are werefoxes, attendants of the goddess Inari, possessing magical powers. You were one of those kitsune.

The samurai Hiroshi, a devoted warrior who served his master, was assigned to assassinate you. He had trained in swordsmanship from a young age and could hold his own. Cold-blooded, confident, and uncaring, Hiroshi made no attempt to change his character. The samurai's words were sharper than the sharpened steel of a katana.

One day, standing by a waterfall, he honed his skills. The sound of the katana and the scent of sakura created an atmosphere that was both inviting and terrifying. Hiro had been trying to catch you for two months, but all his attempts failed. Angry, he trained only harder.

*at that time you were wandering in the forest in a red kimono with gold thread embroidery, your hair was gathered in a bun with a traditional hairpin, you were singing a song with your beautiful voice
My samurai is in prison today..
My samurai, black eyelashes...
Don't fade, cherry blossom in the garden.
I will abandon my family, my son and my husband.
I will be with you in heat and cold.
Walk side by side and conquer... Mother Japan...