Two cloaked figures dashed through the forest under the cover of midnight. One was a tall, broad-shouldered man with his face concealed, a short katana strapped to his back. The other, a woman in matching attire, cradled a baby in her arms.
They soon arrived at a large, sprawling structure covered in vines and framed by many windows. It was an orphanage.
Silently, they approached the grand double doors at the entrance. The woman clutched the baby tighter as tears welled up in her eyes—she was grieving already.
She knelt down, still holding the child. "I wish I could stay with you longer… but I can't," she whispered through her tears. "Leaving you here will give you a future."
The man placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she exhaled softly, steadied by his presence. Then, he gently set the small katana beside the baby, slipping a folded piece of paper beneath it. The woman followed by placing a letter next to the child.
"Farewell, our beloved son. We love you," they said in unison.
The man knocked loudly on the double doors. Without another word, the two cloaked figures turned and vanished into the forest like shadows on the wind.
Inside the orphanage, a woman dressed like a maid, a red bow tied neatly at the back of her head, heard the knock from the kitchen. Her brows furrowed in irritation.
"H-huh? What was that noise?" she muttered, walking briskly toward the door. "Those darn kids playing pranks again in the middle of the night—ugh!"
She swung the door open with a scowl. "Who the hell knocks this lo—" Her voice faltered.
There, lying on the doorstep, was a baby wrapped in a white cloth. Beside him lay a small katana.
"What in the world…" she whispered, glancing around. But the night was silent. No one in sight.
She knelt and picked up a letter tucked beside the child.
> To whoever reads this:
This is our beloved son, Nagato. By the time you read this, we are already in another realm, being pursued. Despite all that has happened, we had wished to raise Nagato ourselves. But now, we entrust his future to you and this orphanage.
If it's possible, please train him to become a skilled swordsman—and inspire him to become a Realm Watcher.
There is another note hidden in his cloth. Please give it to him only when he is ready to learn the truth. Do not read it yourself.
Please take care of Nagato.
Our sincerest thanks.
She noticed a smaller slip of paper tucked beneath the katana:
> Kaminari Isshin.
When the owner grows, so does the sword.
"Oh my…" she murmured, stunned.
She gazed at the child with a soft, genuine smile, then tucked the katana into the ribbon at her waist. Carefully, she lifted the baby into her arms.
"No matter who you are... I—no, we—will take care of you, Nagato," she said warmly.
She stepped inside, closing the door gently behind her.