The Death of Kiyotsune

The man standing in the desert seemed somewhat unaware of his situation. He was wary for a moment before relaxing his shoulders and beginning to walk.

After a while, as if he had confirmed something, he threw something and disappeared from the spot in an instant.

Takuichi set off as soon as he heard the explosion.

He entrusted the fleet to Tomomori and Shigehira, instructing them to stay as far away from the shore as possible, and then, accompanied by two the Taira Clan Ninja, went to provide support.

But before he could even reach the scene, a wave of heat came from ahead.

Boom--!

The power of detonating more than a dozen Explosive Tags simultaneously was enormous.

A blinding Kakkō shot into the sky, instantly engulfing Shinrei and the Minamoto Ninja.

The shockwave snapped the surrounding trees in half, scattering dirt, rubble, and wood chips everywhere. Thick smoke rose, forming a small mushroom cloud that suddenly bloomed in the dark forest!

The enormous explosion was deafening, and could be clearly heard even from the Taira camp on the distant coast.

Kiyotsune stood up, staring blankly at the distant Kakkō: "... Shinrei?"

"Shinrei--!" Takuichi madman, but could only see the golden-red flames that had devoured everything.

The audience erupted in chaos!

Exclamations, sobs, and incredulous murmurs erupted!

"It... it exploded?!"

"Shinrei... she self-destructed?!"

"Oh my god! How could this happen!"

"No! Shinrei!"

Although the stage narration and background music kept reminding them that this was a play, the overly realistic injury just now, and the realistic self-destruction now, were just too impactful.

That girl who had just grown into a beautiful young woman and was just beginning to develop feelings for someone.

That Ninja always quietly protected Kiyotsune, giving strength through actions rather than words.

And so... on the cold, foreign shore, to protect those behind her, she chose the most tragic way, transforming into a fleeting flame in the night sky.

Wakako, the Daimyo's wife, was crying uncontrollably, clutching her husband's arm tightly, her tears soaking her handkerchief and clothes.

Daimyo held his wife tightly, his heart aching, and shouted, "Guards! Take Wakako away!"

"No," Wakako wiped away her tears and looked up, "I... I want to see... I want to see what happened to Shinrei and the people she protected."

Daimyo held his wife's shoulders tightly, his heart heavy with emotion.

What could he say? Comfort him that it was just an act? But the act was so real, the emotions so intense, that even he was moved.

He knew what history was about to unfold: the Battle of Dan -Dan-no-ura Taira, and the complete loss of its members.

This was destined to be a complete tragedy.

He sighed, no longer trying to persuade his wife to leave, but simply stayed with her, watching the stage.

Meanwhile, on one side of the stage, Uchiha Izuna's thoughts drifted away amidst the mournful Biwa.

Let's go back to before the Spring Festival, when we were writing the script.

When he wrote the scene where "Shinrei was no match for him and chose to self-destruct," he felt a strange sense of familiarity.

He couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly it was.

Having read so many stories, I've seen countless instances of people choosing to sacrifice themselves to protect those they care about.

Actually, the Genjutsu simulated during the previous rehearsals were quite realistic, but he felt that this scene had to be real, so realistic that it would make people empathize and feel heartbroken.

On one hand, it's certainly for dramatic effect, to make the audience understand the cruelty of the Ninja world.

Ninjas are such beings; sacrifice is the norm for them in order to complete missions and protect others.

But they don't see it; they only start to think about it when familiar, beloved characters are abused and ultimately die.

What is the actual living condition of those Ninjas who walk in the shadows and carry out similar missions?

On the other hand, Izuna himself didn't quite understand it either.

It was as if something was urging him, pushing him, to make sure that this scene was presented.

The fictional character named "Higa Shinrei" must be made to make this choice, to shine with this brilliance, and then to vanish into oblivion under the watchful eyes of countless people.

Why?

Izuna didn't think for long. He quickly focused his attention on the stage and continued playing the piano and singing for what was to come.

On stage, the smoke Kakkō from the explosion slowly dissipated under the control of exquisite Genjutsu.

All that remained of that area was a charred, shallow crater.

There were no bodies.

Both Shinrei and the Minamoto Ninja were completely obliterated in the violent explosion.

Only a fragment of the red Butterfly behind her head, half charred, lay in the mud beside the pit, glaringly conspicuous in the cold moonlight.

Takuichi gently picked up the red cloth strip and placed it in front of his chest. He closed his eyes tightly and repeatedly told himself that this was a drama, an act.

But the heart-wrenching pain he felt at that moment still left him feeling choked up.

He took a deep breath before turning to the Ninja had followed him and delivering his lines: "Higa Shinrei has sacrificed herself. This place is no longer safe. The enemy could arrive at any moment. Arrange an evacuation as soon as possible."

The night at sea seems longer and colder than the night on land.

The chaos caused by Hakozaki Ford's night raid and Shinrei's self-destruction forced the Taira clan to abandon their only remaining foothold and disappear into the vast ocean.

Several boats of varying sizes drifted on the dark sea like abandoned leaves.

The ship was packed with exhausted and shaken tribesmen. Food and fresh water were becoming scarce, and morale had plummeted.

Sukemori leaned against the side of his ship, gazing at the dark, seemingly unreachable coastline in the distance. His voice was filled with the weariness of days of turbulence and an unspeakable frustration.

"After traveling for so long... we finally arrived at Hakozaki Ford. But every time we tried to disembark, the enemy attacked. In the end, we'll have to spend the night on the ship again."

He seemed to be talking to himself, or perhaps making a powerless protest against this cruel fate.

Atsumori sat silently beside him.

The moonlight shone on his handsome face, but it couldn't reveal his former radiance; only an empty, lifeless silence remained.

Upon hearing Sukemori's words, his gaze flickered slightly, and his voice was light and airy, as if he were talking in a dream. "Fish caught in the net... That's how Kiyotsune described us after that."

Upon hearing this, Sukemori glanced at Atsumori, then looked towards the ship where Kiyotsune was in the distance. "Aren't you on the same ship as him?"

Atsumori didn't answer, but buried his face in his arms, his shoulders twitching almost imperceptibly.

Sukemori sighed inwardly. His beloved girl, his favorite older sister, died so tragically before his eyes; anyone would be devastated like that.

He could only secretly hope that both Atsumori and Kiyotsune would come to their senses soon.

However, in the deadly silence and oppressive night, a familiar flute melody suddenly drifted over from the ship where Kiyotsune was.

It's "Yuugure".

That piece of music, which I once played with Shigehira and Atsumori under the moon in Fukuhara, bringing a brief moment of peace and solace.

But at this moment, there is no longer the Shigehira, no longer the smoothness of Atsumori, and no longer the harmony of any other instruments.

Only one lone Shakuhachi was being played.

The sound of the flute was carried intermittently by the sea breeze, sometimes clear, sometimes indistinct, like a sob.

Sukemori was stunned and involuntarily held his breath.

Atsumori suddenly raised his head and looked in the direction from which the flute music came, a faint light suddenly appearing in his dim eyes.

"That flute music... it's His Excellency Kiyotsune's..." Atsumori murmured, his voice hoarse, "Is he... playing the flute to encourage us?"

Even the slightest sign of trying to pull ourselves together would be great!

As if grasping at a last straw, Atsumori hurriedly took out his flute, "Little Branch," from his bosom. With trembling hands, he tried to keep up with Kiyotsune's melody, wanting to Accompaniment him, wanting to tell him through music: You are not alone, I am here, we...

However, Kiyotsune only played a short section of his flute.

After that most mournful, seemingly heart-wrenching high note, the flute music abruptly stopped.

Only the sounds of the wind and waves remained on the sea.

Atsumori froze in his tracks. An ominous premonition, like icy seawater, instantly overwhelmed him.

The next second.

A figure walked to the side of the boat, flashed by in the moonlight, and disappeared into the dark, cold seawater, leaving only a ripple that quickly spread out and was then smoothed out by the waves.

"Thump--!"

A perfectly clear splash came from the side of the boat where Kiyotsune was.

Someone has fallen into the water!

A gasp shattered the silence!

Sukemori and Atsumori rushed to the side of the ship at the same time, staring wide-eyed in the direction from which the sound came.

"Kiyotsune--!" Atsumori let out a shrill, distorted cry!

"Quick! Light the fire! Aim it at the water!" Sukemori roared hoarsely, then turned sharply and yelled to the others on the boat, "Those who can swim! Go down and rescue them!!"

Takuichi was on another boat, and he had already rushed to the side of the boat like a cheetah as soon as the sound of falling into the water was heard.

He plunged into the icy, bone-chilling seawater.

Several torches were hastily lit and brought to the side of the ship, their dim light barely illuminating a small patch of churning sea around the vessel.

People called out anxiously and searched frantically.

Takuichi struggled through the water, relying on his excellent night vision and sense of water currents as Ninja to dive underwater again and again, only to surface again for air.

The seawater was icy cold, the darkness was as dark as ink, and visibility was extremely low.

He can't see or touch anything.

There was only endless seawater and that despairing, all-consuming darkness.

Once, twice, three times...

Takuichi was exhausted, and his lips were frozen purple, but he still refused to give up and kept diving in until he was forcibly pulled back to the boat by his other companions who had gone into the water.

"Can't find it... can't find it at all..." A sailor gasped for breath, shaking his head in despair. "The current is too turbulent, and it's too dark..."

"Lord Kiyotsune... Lord Kiyotsune!!"

The cries of the women rose up, sounding particularly desolate on the empty sea.

Sukemori slammed his fist hard against the ship's side, his knuckles instantly cracking and blood seeping out.

He stared intently at the sea that had swallowed his brother, his eyes bloodshot.

Atsumori slumped to the side of the boat, the "Little Branch" flute slipping limply from his hand and falling onto the deck with a crisp sound.

He stared blankly at the sea, tears streaming down his face like a burst dam, turning into heart-wrenching sobs.

That boy who always smiled as brightly as the sun, loved playing the flute, would play duets with him while admiring the moon, would get jealous of Shinrei, and would support each other in times of crisis...

And just like that... they disappeared.

They didn't even say goodbye.

All that remains is this boundless, icy sea.

Someone used a long pole to retrieve the flute floating on the sea and handed it over.

Sukemori accepted it with trembling hands.

He closed his eyes, clutched the flute tightly to his chest, his Adam's apple bobbing violently, but no sound came out.

Atsumori's cries echoed in the night wind.

The girl I liked died.

Even my best friend followed me in death.

The audience members below the stage couldn't help but close their eyes as they listened to his cries.