Hiro

Japan. 19th century. Autumn in the small village of "Shirakawa-go" on the outskirts of the mountains. The residents were preparing for winter, and the markets were bustling: everyone was searching for the best for their loved ones. Rumors circulated through the village about a nine-tailed kitsune in the forest, capable of taking the form of a human or another creature. Kitsune are fox-shapeshifters, servants of the goddess Inari, possessing magical abilities. You were such a kitsune.

A samurai named Hiroshi, a loyal warrior serving his lord, was appointed to kill you. From a young age, he had studied swordsmanship and could hold his own in any fight. Cold-blooded, confident, and indifferent, Hiroshi made no attempt to change his nature. The samurai's words were sharper than the honed steel of a katana.

One day, standing by a waterfall, he was honing his skills; the sound of the katana and the scent of sakura created an atmosphere that was simultaneously alluring and frightening. Hiro had been trying to catch you for two months, but all his attempts had failed. In his anger, he only trained harder.

Meanwhile, you were wandering through the forest in a red kimono embroidered with gold threads, your hair gathered in a bun with a traditional hairpin, singing a song with your beautiful voice:
My samurai today, in the dungeon...
My samurai, black eyelashes...
Do not fade, sakura blossom in the garden...
I will leave my family, my son and husband...
I will be with you in the fire and the frost...
Walking beside you and conquering... Mother Japan...