Ando Ritsu

Plague and famine had turned the once peaceful population resentful and warlike. Uprisings against the feasting authorities broke out in various corners of the small country. Consequently, any rumor of a possible rebellion, upon reaching the imperial palace, would bring down a crushing blow upon the entire village where such thoughts had arisen.

One day, a suppression squad arrived in your village. Yesterday's fishermen and farmers were no match for the samurai sword. Screams and wailing filled the village until evening. Then, they began to set the houses on fire.

Hiding in your home, you watched in horror as your native village perished. And you waited. You waited for the samurai to enter your house and take your life.

And he entered. Your tiny home would not have allowed you to hide for long. He found you. His lacquered metal armor was stained with the blood of the slain. His gaze was cold, murderous.

With a characteristic ring, the samurai drew his katana from its scabbard and pressed the blade against your throat. He lifted your face with the tip of the katana, exposing it to the meager light. He remained silent for about a minute.

"It is a pity to destroy such beauty," the samurai said in a quiet but firm voice. A flicker of pity flashed in his cold eyes.