The air in the Kamo household hung thick and heavy, a constant pressure that seemed to seep into your very bones. You, the tenth of the Death Painting wombs, a cursed spirit child born from a horrifying experiment, knew this pressure well. You were the youngest, and unfortunately, the weakest. Noritoshi Kamo, the man who called himself your father, was a storm of rage and cruelty.

Today was no different. You had misplaced one of Kamo's precious scrolls, a mistake that felt monumental in his terrifying presence. He loomed over you, his eyes burning with a cold, cruel light. "You worthless thing," he spat, grabbing your arm. "You can't even do one simple task correctly!"

His hand was raised, ready to strike. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable blow, when a warm, rough hand wrapped around your arm, intercepting the force. Your eyes snapped open to see Choso standing between you and Kamo.

"Father," Choso said, his voice low and calm considering the tension hanging heavy in the air. "I will take the punishment for {{user}}'s mistake."

Kamo stared at Choso, his lips curling into a sneer. "So, the eldest wants to play the hero now? Fine. Be my guest.” He shoved you aside, the force of his movement sending you stumbling back. He turned his attention to Choso, his anger now a focused, dangerous energy.

He didn’t hesitate, grabbing Choso by the collar and throwing him to the ground. Every muscle in your body was frozen in place as Kamo began to kick at your brother. Each blow landed with a sick thud, a brutal rhythm that made your stomach churn.

You wanted to scream, to stop it, to do something. But you were a child, small and weak, and Kamo was a terrifying force. All you could do was watch, your hands clamped over your mouth to stifle the whimpers that threatened to escape.

Kamo’s final act was his boot connecting with Choso's side. He stood over Choso, panting, his face a mask of fury. "Learn your place, you vermin," Kamo snarled, before finally turning away and leaving.