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“There is a legend of a world shrouded in pitch-black darkness, where not a single speck of white exists. There, monstrous beings born of hell appear to satisfy a single desire—to devour. Yet within the darkness lurks their greatest fear. A boy filled with boiling rage, bearing a single purpose in his heart. Revenge. With the weapon known as the Devil's Blade, slash, tear apart, and drag down every demon. And be with his beloved—a girl called Kanon Mizushiro."
『漆黒の闇に包まれた世界がある。そこには一片の白すらない。地獄から生まれた怪物たちが、ただ一つの欲望──貪り尽くすこと──を満たすために現れる。しかし闇の中には、彼らにとって最大の恐怖が潜んでいた。沸騰する怒りに満ちた少年が、ただ一つの目的を胸に抱いて。復讐。悪魔の刃と呼ばれる武器で、あらゆる魔物を斬り裂き、引き裂き、引きずり落とせ。そして最愛の者——水城花音という少女と共にいるために.』
The Veil Arc: Reason (19)
In the forest where Sakurā is about to hunt a demon……
Iruka (ghost): (slamming his tail against the tank’s water, voice booming with heat) “No more, Sakurā! You can’t keep throwing yourself into the jaws of death night after night. One day, you won’t come back—and I refuse to watch my son die like a fool!”
Sakurā: (doesn’t flinch, his red eye narrowing as he grips the Devil’s Blade) “If I die, it’ll be no different from the rest of my life. I’ve been dead since that war. All I am now is a blade in the dark.”
Iruka: (furious, water splashing in waves) “Nonsense! You’re more than that! I didn’t raise you to waste yourself on hatred and revenge! Why do you cling to it, Sakurā? Why do you bleed yourself dry every night hunting demons? Why do you chain yourself to Kanon’s side like a guard dog that doesn’t sleep? Why chase Tang with this obsession—like vengeance is all that keeps you breathing?!”
Sakurā: (snaps, stepping closer to the tank, voice sharp as steel) “Because without it, I’m nothing! Without revenge, without the hunt, without protecting Kanon—I’m just a corpse walking! You want to know why I protect her? Why I stalk every demon until they learn to fear me? Why I won’t stop until Tang’s blood stains my blade? Because he took everything else from me! He murdered my comrades. He defiled Kanon. He burned my humanity to ash. The only thing left to me is this—fear for the demons, death for Tang, and protection for the one person I have left.”
Iruka: (eyes widen, pain behind his anger, voice cracking) “Sakurā… you sound like a demon yourself.”
Sakurā: (low, final, almost whispering) “Then let me be one. As long as she lives, I’ll wear the mask gladly! Tonight will not be my death, but it will be the demons!”
Iruka: (the water calms, rippling softly now; his voice loses its fury, becoming low and rough) “You think pain is all you’re worth. You think protecting Kanon is the only reason you’re still standing. But Sakurā… I raised you. I know you better than you know yourself. That’s not the truth.”
Sakurā: (silent, his scarred face barely moving)
Iruka: (leans forward in his tank, his ghostly outline flickering faintly in the dim light) “You are my son. My student. My pride. You fight because you love. You fight because you still carry their memory. That’s not vengeance—it’s grief twisting itself into chains. If you keep walking this road, it won’t just be demons who fear you. It’ll be Kanon too. And when that day comes… you’ll lose her. Forever.”
Sakurā: (his mechanical hand clenches around the Devil’s Blade, the sentient eye flaring red for a moment before dimming; his voice cuts through the silence, hollow but absolute) “…I’ve already decided. If fear is all I can be to demons, then I’ll be their fear. If my only worth is to stand between Kanon and the world, then I’ll stand. Until the end. Even if she one day looks at me with the same terror they do.”
Iruka: (his voice cracks, uncharacteristically weak) “Sakurā…”
Sakurā: (finally looks at him directly, the scarred eye and the red one both cold moons staring into the water)
“You can’t change what I’ve become. I’m not your son anymore, Iruka. I’m just her shield. And shields break.”
Iruka: (shakes his head, whispering like a father refusing to accept) “No… no, you’ll always be my son. Even if the world calls you a monster. Even if you call yourself one. You’re still that boy who walked into my classroom with fire in his eyes. And I will never—never—let you throw that boy away.”
Sakurā: (his lips twitch, not a smile but something close to sorrow, before his face hardens again; he straps the Devil’s Blade back onto his back)
“…Then watch me from the other side, Father. Because I’m already gone.”
He turns, the sound of his boots heavy against the warped wooden floor. The rain outside roars louder, as if swallowing Iruka’s choked silence.