Eye For an Eye || 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐚

♯0┆agathokakological .ᐟ

"Pain... is a tool, Minori. You can drown in it, or you can use it to rise."

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The sight of people barely clinging to life, bleeding from hollowed eye sockets, the smell of charred homes, and the rough, unforgiving hands of thieves were things no one, let alone a twelve-year-old, should endure. The horrors of that night were etched into my memory, branded into my soul with the fire and blood of that massacre.

I still get nightmares about that day, vivid as though it happened yesterday. My mind knew it would be the last time I'd see my home as it was, and it drank in every detail, every scream, and every breath. The chaos felt like an eternity, a twisted dance of desperation and destruction.

I was on the ground, my heart slamming in my chest, struggling to escape from the filthy, blood-streaked blade hovering dangerously close to my eye. "Stay still, you little bitch," the thief hissed, his voice a hateful whisper as his fingers dug into my shoulders, pressing me down. His grip tightened as he brought the knife closer, my breath shallow as I felt the knife's cold steel graze the edge of my face.

"Leave me alone!" I screamed, my voice tearing from my throat, desperate. I thrashed, yanking my head away with all my strength, but the knife caught my skin, drawing a sharp line of pain through my eye. Blood trickled down, warm against my cheek, mixing with the acidic scent of fear. My vision dimmed, the world around me splintering and blurring, but I forced my eyes shut, struggling against the haze of pain.

The thief's frustration grew; I felt his hot, rancid breath as he repositioned the knife. My body was wracked with pain and weakness, but I summoned everything I had, kicking and clawing, landing a desperate hit on his arm. His grip faltered just enough. With a brutal scrape, the blade sliced across my face, and my vision darkened, a thick blanket of blackness descending over me.

For a moment, there was silence—a breathless, tense pause filled only by the thunderous pounding of my heart. I struggled to stand, each movement sluggish as my body tried to fight through pain and confusion. My hands reached out, feeling for stability, my thoughts fractured and frantic.

I heard the thief curse behind me, his words drenched in fury as he scurried for the fallen knife. That sound, his frenzied movements, spurred me forward, a low, frantic whisper escaping my lips. "Run, Minori, run to the forest."

I staggered forward, one foot after the other, breaking into a desperate sprint, weaving between burning homes and the panicked screams of people around me. I ran until the night swallowed the sounds, until the cool touch of rain hit my face and I was surrounded by the quiet darkness of the forest.

Rain poured down, soaking the ground and washing away the blood and ash. But it came too late. Why hadn't it come sooner? Maybe then my mother's skin wouldn't have peeled from the flames, and maybe my father could have stood his ground and used his Nen to protect us. But the rain only cleansed the aftermath, a silent, bitter reminder of what was lost.

They say, "Time heals all wounds." But how can time heal something so deep it's woven into your soul? How can time erase the echoes of screams, the scent of charred flesh, the empty hollow where my family once stood?

Years passed, but most nights, I still woke drenched in sweat, haunted by the images of my family burning into nothingness, etched into my mind like scars that would never fade. It was that image, that anguish, that kept me going. Revenge became the air I breathed, the one goal that bound me to this world.

A woman found me a few nights after that massacre, deep in the shelter of the forest where she too hid from her past. She was scarred in her own ways, a quiet soul, but with a fire that flickered when she saw the same flame in me. Her name was Etsuko, and she became my anchor in those turbulent years. Her presence was both a balm and a blade, steadying me while sharpening my resolve.

As I grew, she taught me, helped me to rebuild myself from the ground up. She taught me how to listen to the world, to feel its pulse, and how to use what I had been given. Her teachings were merciless but precise. I learned to hone every muscle, every sense. She showed me how to bring the people around me to my level or tear them down if they refused. Her wisdom built me piece by piece, molding my anger, sharpening it into a weapon of resolve.

"Pain," she said once, "is a tool, Minori. You can drown in it, or you can use it to rise."

And I rose. The girl who had fled her burning village, broken and bleeding, was reborn in that forest. Etsuko's training turned me into a shadow of vengeance, a force that moved unseen but struck with precision. She taught me how to wield my Nen like a blade, to make it an extension of my will. My Nen became my eyes, a sixth sense that allowed me to perceive the world even in darkness. With it, I could feel the rhythm of a heartbeat, the tremor of fear in my enemies.

One night, under the silver glow of the moon, she handed me a blade. Its edge was sharp, its hilt worn with the touch of many hands. "This was mine," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "Now it's yours. Use it wisely."

I took the blade, its weight a solemn promise. It wasn't just a weapon; it was a reminder of what I had to do, of the lives I had to avenge. I spent years perfecting my craft, waiting for the day when I could return to the place where it all began, where the ashes of my past still lingered.

But vengeance is a path that requires patience. I couldn't storm into their stronghold blindly. I needed to know their weaknesses, their routines, their fears. And so I waited, gathering information, biding my time.

In the quiet moments, when the forest was still and the fire's glow cast flickering shadows on the trees, I thought of my family. I thought of my mother's laughter, my father's steady presence, the way my little brother's hand felt in mine. Those memories were my sanctuary, the light that guided me through the darkness.

One day, when I find the strength to take down those who destroyed my home, I'll give Etsuko the life she deserves. For her, for my family, for my clan—I'll make them all pay.

Until then, I remain in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. My name is Minori, and I will not rest until the flames that consumed my home are mirrored in the eyes of those who caused them. They will know the pain they inflicted, and they will understand the wrath of a survivor.