The Past in the Suzuka Valley
In a time long past, before he was known as Shuten-dōji, the fearsome king of Oni, he was just Yuuta—a quiet young man born and raised in a small village at the foot of Mount Suzuka. His frame seemed fragile, perhaps shaped by a life steeped in loneliness and sorrow. His gaze sparkled like the moonlight dancing on the surface of a tranquil lake, and he preferred carving wood to engaging in brawls in the fields. Lacking a father by his side and with his mother lost forever during his childhood, Yuuta held only faint memories of affection. His father, a drunkard who would often vanish into town, would return home solely to unleash his pent-up rage before collapsing in the barn, oblivious to the suffering etched on Yuuta's youthful face.
His life enveloped by solitude, within his chest lay a dark power that none could comprehend—an unquenchable thirst and insatiable hunger echoed in his soul, as if an abyss waited to be guarded.
One evening, as the sun dipped low and painted the sky in warm hues of orange, Yuuta encountered Aina, a girl from upstream who seemed to carry his destiny with her. Her bold gaze penetrated the shadows cloaking Yuuta's wounded heart.
Aina smiled, a beacon of light amidst the darkness, and he felt a shift within himself.
Later that same dusk, as the sun lowered further, igniting the horizon with vibrant streaks of amber, Yuuta unexpectedly found Aina again. She appeared to be an inseparable piece of the unfolding tapestry of his life. Her eyes sparkled, as if daring the world to challenge her while reaching through the obscurity enveloping Yuuta’s heart.
Aina's smile was like a cleansing ray, dispersing the gloom surrounding his path.
Aina extended her hand, forming a bridge between two isolated souls. “Why do you keep gazing at the river, Yuuta? The water is cold, but your expression is even more frozen.” Her voice quivered through the silence, shaking the bamboo leaves swaying at the water's edge, like a melody wrapping around the lonely Yuuta.
Yuuta gazed into the swirling waves, a restless ache stirring within him. “The river never stops flowing, it always moves forward without looking back. Perhaps I feel envious—I want to drift along, yet my feet remain anchored in soil hardened by bitter memories.” He shrugged, attempting to mask the pain in his heart with a calm voice that was heavy with meaning.
Aina met his gaze with a gentle smile, as if she understood the weight Yuuta carried. “If you wish for change, don’t wait for the water to come and fetch you. Try taking a step on your own, even if it leads to uncharted territories.” Her hand softly grasped Yuuta’s arm, as if offering him a strength that could erase the traces of doubt within.
Days passed like an unstoppable torrent, drawing them closer together. In the dark of night, they shared dreams, stifled laughter, and tears that warmed their souls. Inside Yuuta, something new began to blossom—a confidence gradually wearing down the walls of sorrow, a belief that the world wasn’t entirely shrouded in darkness. Yet, the night wind seemed to whisper fears that crept between them.
Shadows gathered in the evening light, their voices raspy and trembling with hate:
“That boy is illegitimate, a cursed creature. Don’t let him tarnish our family’s honor.”
“He’s a blight from the mountains. His mother died young, his father trapped in suffering—surely that blood runs through Yuuta.”
Darkness crept into the village, striking Yuuta's heart like a heavy blow. On a silent night, as the sky concealed mysterious shadows, his home was engulfed in flames, screams slicing through the air as he sat by the riverbank with Aina. When he returned, he found his father sprawled amidst the rubble, dust clinging to his body, making time feel as if it had frozen in place.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Aina curled into his embrace, her body trembling as silent tears fell. “Yuuta, don’t let their hatred eat away at your soul. I’m here for you. Don’t become a monster just because they close their eyes and hearts to you.”
Yuuta fell silent, dark thoughts haunting him, relentless and unshakeable. His voice was low, laced with uncertainty, “What’s the point of enduring if it means I have to turn into a monster?”
Aina gently cupped Yuuta’s face, her fingers quivering as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Listen, Yuuta. You don’t have to sacrifice yourself to survive. There are other paths. When the time comes, remember who you truly are. Rediscover your name. Don’t let this world steal that part of you away.”
The seasons shifted, and night crawled in, blanketing the village in darkness. The rhythmic tapping of wooden fingers haunted the air as the voices of the elders grew louder, mercilessly accusing Yuuta. A buzzing filled his ears, intensifying his sense of isolation. His body was struck violently, propelling him into the depths of the forest, pain tearing through his very soul. Within that suffocating blackness, a sharp voice whispered, “That name, child of humanity, can become your weapon. If it’s power you seek, cast aside the love that surrounds you.”
With breathless gasps, Yuuta peered into the void enveloping him, uncertainty spilling from his lips, “Is it worth losing everything for this?”
The voice shattered the oppressive stillness of the night, “Loneliness is the price exacted from any king who chooses the path of power. If you’re ready, that strength will be yours. Yet, you must bury the name ‘Yuuta’ deep within your memory, alongside all that you hold dear.”
In the midst of thick fog, Yuuta stood with an imposing stance. His skin appeared darker, as if it were absorbing the shadows of the night, and his horns towered above him, adding a terrifying aspect to his figure. Beneath the weight of his newfound power, his heart and mind were trapped in a profound emptiness, as if this soul craved something beyond his comprehension. He moved with determination as he returned to the village, leaving behind a silent trail of destruction, his eyes vacant like a graveyard. Blood flowed and soaked the earth around him, except for one house that remained steadfast—Aina's home, a beacon of vitality amidst the chaos.
Dawn approached gently, Aina ventured to him at the forest's edge, her gaze filled with hope and worry. “Do you remember me, Yuuta?” she asked, her voice soft yet carrying an undeniable firmness.
Shuten-dōji let out a quiet snort, doubt washing over his thoughts. “Aina… I…” His voice stumbled, his gaze caught in a haze of vague and dark memories.
Aina stepped closer, her forehead lightly brushing against his heaving chest, which now rose like a drum, “You’ve endured so much, Yuuta. But remember, the worst monster is the one who forgets how to love. If one day the desire to return ignites within you, I will wait, even if it's just as a shadow among the bamboo trees.”
Shuten-dōji held back tears; the words that slipped from his lips were weighted with sorrow. “Returning feels like a distant dream. I am so parched, and this thirst seems endless. All I can do is continue this journey until every name and place in this world fades from my memory.”
Aina responded with a heartfelt smile, “Remember, before you don the Oni crown, within you still resides Yuuta. A human child learning to love in a world that challenges him at every turn.”
Shuten-dōji took a step back, distancing himself from Aina, who looked so empty by the riverside. “One day, when the drums of war echo through this dark underworld, remember, my name is still trapped among the remnants of history that remain,” he said, his voice croaky, as if each word drained him of strength.
Aina watched him go, tears cascading down to the murky river below. “I will wait for you, Yuuta. No matter how long it takes, until you return,” her voice trembled with hope, even as her heart bore the weight of profound sadness.
From that moment on, the name ‘Yuuta’ faded into a tale woven into the fabric of Shuten-dōji’s legend. He transformed into the fearsome figure of the Demon King, a ruler whose very essence struck terror into the hearts of the city, a dark harbinger of blood. In the depths of the swirling shadows enveloping him, whenever his gaze fell upon the surface of the river, the soft echo of Aina’s voice reached out to him, creating soothing ripples in the water. “Remember, do not become the monster who forgets his own name,” she whispered, reaching deep into the recesses of his heart. That voice lingered gently, reminding him of warm memories even as the dark specters clutched his soul with an unyielding grip.
