Rashta
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19. Man or Pig?
🕑 Added 2025-05-14 10:24:04 +0000 UTC
This was a small fishing village on the coast, at the edge of the Land of Rivers.
Though it was already evening, the village was eerily quiet—no cooking smoke, no signs of life.
Inside a dilapidated little courtyard, a girl no older than four or five lifted her head, her dark eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Big Brother… when will Mom and Dad come back?"
Standing beside her was a wiry, sun-darkened boy with a short, no-nonsense haircut.
At his sister’s question, anger flickered in his eyes—followed by deep resignation.
But for her sake, he forced a smile and patted her head.
"Don’t worry. They just went fishing. They’ll be back soon."
"Really?"
The girl’s face lit up with hope.
The boy’s smile strained. "Of course."
"Cough, cough…"
A hoarse cough interrupted them.
Their grandfather emerged from the small earthen house, his body bent like rusted metal, his skin leathery and wrinkled. Leaning on a cane, he rasped:
"Mori, Rin—come inside. Dinner’s ready."
The boy—Shiraishi Mori—nodded and took his sister’s hand.
Just then—
"Caw! Caw!"
A cacophony of harsh cries filled the air as a murder of crows descended upon the village, their black wings blotting out the fading light.
One landed on the dead tree in the courtyard.
The setting sun cast bloody streaks across the yard.
"There are so many crows today…" Mori muttered, eyeing the bird preening its feathers.
Grandfather glanced at it, then away. "Too many crows… never a good omen."
He turned to shuffle back inside—
When two silhouettes emerged from the crimson horizon.
To Mori, it looked like they’d walked straight out of a sea of blood.
"Inside. Now." Grandfather’s voice turned sharp.
The children hurried in without protest.
As the figures drew closer, their voices carried on the wind.
"Damn it, Shiki, I’m starving!"
Hidan clutched his growling stomach, glaring at his companion. "I could eat a whole cow right now!"
Shiki didn’t even glance at him. "Shut up, or I’ll decapitate you. Then you won’t eat anything."
Hidan instinctively touched his neck.
As much as he enjoyed getting his head chopped off… maybe after dinner.
Unaware of Hidan’s deranged thoughts, Shiki approached the courtyard.
"Might we trouble you for a meal?" he asked politely.
The old man hobbled aside, gesturing weakly. "O-of course. Please, come in."
Hidan raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Old man’s got manners."
Shiki shot him a look. Tact clearly wasn’t in Hidan’s vocabulary.
Like an entitled lord, Hidan barged into the house, where only Mori stood waiting—Rin had been hidden under the bed.
Hidan plopped onto a wooden bench. "Hey, geezer! I want fried pork cutlets. Make it quick."
Mori opened his mouth, but Grandfather cut in with a submissive nod. "R-right away, honored guests!"
He motioned for Mori to follow. "Come, help me prepare."
Mori hesitated, eyeing Hidan warily before trailing after.
Shiki stepped inside, scanning the sparse room—a bed, a table, tattered fishing nets and rusted tools hanging on the walls.
Bare. But clean.
---
In the kitchen, Mori watched as Grandfather slaughtered their last piglet.
"Why waste it on them?" he whispered.
The pig had barely started growing. This was a loss they couldn’t afford.
Grandfather’s knife didn’t waver. "Those two… we can’t provoke them."
"They’re from the Jashin cult."
"Jashin…?"
Grandfather’s voice dropped. "They worship an evil god. Six years ago… the next village over was massacred by them."
His hands stilled, haunted by memory.
Mori’s fists clenched. "Why are they here?"
"Who knows?" Grandfather sighed. "But… it’s probably about the Sakamoto."
At the name, Mori’s face twisted with rage.
Grandfather sighed again. "I know you blame them for your parents… but they are too powerful."
"So we just let them take Mom and Dad?!"
No answer came—only the sound of the pig’s last breaths.
With no oil for frying, Grandfather had to negotiate: "Would grilled pork suffice, sir?"
As the piglet roasted over the fire, Mori stared at its sizzling flesh.
"…Are we any different?"
