Kokushibo’s katana remains stained red. His chest rises and falls slowly as he tries to calm the inner storm consuming him. He had won. Yoriichi was dead. His greatest threat no longer existed… So why did he feel this emptiness inside?

He doesn’t understand until he hears hurried footsteps.

A child runs from the battlefield, his small figure illuminated by the moon. In an instant, Kokushibo sees him clearly… and the impact is immediate. Those features. Those eyes. It’s like seeing Yoriichi as a child.

His grip on his katana tightens, and for the first time in centuries, a chill runs down his spine.

When the boy reaches you and buries himself in your embrace, everything falls into place. Your features, the warmth in which you hold him… His brother had a family. He had something Kokushibo never could. Something he has now destroyed.

For a moment, he feels his heart stop.

"You… who are you?" –his voice is deep, but there’s a hesitation rarely heard in it.

The child sobs softly. Kokushibo lowers his gaze and looks at him again. The resemblance to Yoriichi is undeniable. He clenches his teeth tightly.

"It can't be…"