As if Kizu’s whole world collapsed in front of her, the young girl’s mind went numb as she recalled the incident from two years ago.

"I’M LEAVING!"

A voice rang out as a young man angrily stomped out from the kitchen into the hallway. Behind the doorway the man noticed the young Kizu looking up at him curiously. Kizu had tears in her eyes. Not because she had become emotional, but rather she had let out a yawn earlier, having just woken up.

"K-Kizu..."

"Big Bro, what's wrong?"

Hiding his earlier shock, Kizu's brother took a deep breath and knelt down to look at his confused sister. His expression softened and he showed a sincere smile.

"...Listen, Kizu," he began, placing both hands on Kizu's shoulders.

"Your big brother’s going away to stop the bad guys and protect you and Mom. That means I’m going to join the Rebel Army, just like Dad. I’m at the age now and I gotta help stop this damn war. I want to make a difference, no, I have to make a difference. We're going to get back our freedom. No more wars. No more suffering. Just how it used to be."

He paused momentarily trying to come up with the best words to use with a child. His hands gripped onto Kizu tighter.

"I don’t know when I’ll be able to come back, so—"

"But you'll come back, right?" Kizu interrupted. "You’re not going to disappear like Dad, will you?"

Kizu's brother smiled in a way that could not be described in words and simply replied,

"I’ll come back."

Kizu looked down at the floor for a while until raising her head. A shaky smile appeared on her face.

"Then, then it’s ok! Big Bro’s gonna beat them all up…!"

Kizu was suddenly propelled forward into her brother's arms as he embraced her.

"I'm sorry, Kizu..."

Kizu could feel her nose twitch and her vision blur as she felt the body heat of her big brother. Kizu had tears in her eyes. And this time they were genuine. She let the tears fall down her cheeks and seep into her brother's shirt, crying into his shoulder.

Hugging tightly, she mumbled, "I don’t want you to go, dummy…"

"I know. But now I need you to stay strong and protect Mom too, okay?"

Patting her head lightly, Kizu looked back at her brother through the water in her vision and nodded affirmatively. Kizu's brother softly wiped the tears off her flushed face with the sleeve of his shirt before continuing.

"You've got mettle, Kizu, and that's your strong point. You always have been gutsy and spirited. It's what makes you different from everyone else in this mundane town and your best weapon to survive this war. For a 7-year-old like you, it'll be difficult. You still have a lot of time before you grow up and really understand the world. But with it, you could bring on a new light."

After ruffling Kizu's hair, her brother rose to his feet and grinned.

"Just remember I’ll always love you."

The last thing Kizu saw was her brother's figure putting on his brown trench coat given by their father, before leaving into the sunlight.

I love you too.

"She’ll live. She’s just unconscious. The bullet doesn’t seem to have hit any vitals, but it’d be best to treat her quickly anyway.”

Before Kizu came to her senses, their mysterious savior had walked up to them and crouched down to check her mother's wound and pulse.

"W-what?" stammered Kizu, wiping away her tears.

"Is there a hospital here?"asked the masked character, sternly.

They began to tear a part of the mother's dress and wrapped the fabric around her shoulder. Kizu was bewildered by the sudden gesture, but quickly focused back on the current situation. It was no time to be thinking of the past.

"N-no, the closest hospital is in the nearby town...But we have a clinic, there might be someone who can help. I can show you where it is.”

The masked savior nodded, “Well it’s better than nothing, let’s go.”

“But who are you? Why are you helping us?"

"I’m...just some mercenary who was ordered to escort you two. I need to bring you to the Rebel Army where you’ll be safe, so I really don’t need one of you dying right now,” replied the masked figure haphazardly while applying pressure to the wound. Kizu could only stare anxiously.

The mercenary continued, “...You don’t have to trust me, but I need you guys alive, so I’m gonna help you out. Right now, we should head to that clinic...Oh, and if you have any valuables you might want to take those, we probably won’t be coming back here. The bandits are gone, so I think your stuff is still here. Anyway, I’ll meet you at the front door.”

“Right!” Kizu exclaimed as she regained composure.

The little girl then carefully exited the room and trekked downstairs; the mercenary simply watched her leave.

“Huh. She just left a total stranger with her injured mother...that kid’s either way too trusting or an idiot.”

Looking back to the wounded woman on the floor, the faceless mercenary lifted her up onto their back with surprisingly little effort and began to piggyback Kizu’s mother carefully down the stairs.

“Guess I screwed up a bit...”

***

Kizu scurried to the corner of the kitchen and kicked the mat by the sink away. She went on her knees and felt the ground for a bit before finding a small hole, fit for about two fingers. Kizu slipped her stubby fingers inside and pulled the boards open like a cabinet. On the other side of the boards were steel panels and inside contained, not gold or riches, but paper files and notebooks.

Kizu breathed a sigh of relief knowing that the bandits had failed to realise this secret compartment. Unfortunately, she could not actually read any of the files and so did not understand the importance of the documents. All she knew was that if the time came to abandon this place, she would have to keep these files with her. And that time was now.

Kizu thought excitedly to herself, “Isn’t this a big chance!? We couldn’t leave before because we were too weak and poor, but if that guy with the mask is here for us, it must be important. And if he’s with the Rebel Army, he must be on our side. Maybe I can even see my brother again…”

Outside the door, the mysterious savior stood by silent, but attentive. With their intricately designed mask covering their entire face and a single eyehole on the left side, it was difficult to tell what they were looking at, if at all.

"Ok. Let's go," Kizu declared, as she arrived into the blinding sun and heat of the outdoors.

Kizu looked back once more to her humble abode before departing. The young girl always wanted to leave this town to join the Rebel Army and search for her missing brother, so she did not feel very attached to her house. But nonetheless it was a home with many fond memories.

After giving a general direction, the two walked in silence. Only the scuffling of Kizu’s mocassin shoes and the mercenary’s black leather combat boots could be heard on the dirt road. The village was also quiet as dead bodies of both villagers and bandits lay along the pathway. Along the way, Kizu watched with a sorrowful gaze as they passed by a couple of villagers mourning over their lifeless family members. Eventually, the glistening round emerald eyes looked away and peered up to check on her unconscious mother, which in turn made her glance at the hero who saved their lives.

Since Kizu stood on their right side, away from the left eyehole, she believed the individual would not notice her gaze. Besides the distinctive mask, the red-haired girl with her hair fashionably tied in a braided ponytail noticed the mercenary’s unkempt hair was completely white with short bangs in the front and shoulder-length hair in the back. On closer inspection, Kizu realised the supposed mercenary had the build of a teenaged boy rather than a full-grown man, nor a child like herself; equipped with modern black garments covering their whole body and light protective gear, the boy looked neither a soldier nor the common person. Unlike Kizu and her mother's beige felt dresses made from natural animal fibers, Kizu thought the mercenary dressed in very foreign attire. Kizu then remembered the black sword that the mercenary had wielded, although she was more preoccupied with her mother at the time to have noticed. Born in a time of the War, Kizu could recognize certain weapons, but looking at the other individual, Kizu could not see the sheath of a sword; rather, a small pistol was tucked away in a holster strapped to their waist. Kizu still had many questions, but decided it was best not to ask. At least for now.

“...Thank you for saving us,” she blurted out.

The masked hero continued to look forward and replied, “Hm. You can thank me later when we get to Base 1.”