Prologue
In a distant but quiet town people lived in peace and harmony (and by this I mean that terrible disasters of great magnitude did not occur, because this town like other places there were gossip, betrayals, lies, fights, drunkenness and other things). The town was small, with houses built of wood and with one floor and room (and for this reason they had no more than two children, because it would mean having to go for the wood, bring it and expand the house, the people in this town were very lazy). This town had no planned shape, it started to “go there” as people say, the streets were irregular and did not have a square or center, nor did they have a feudal lord, the closest thing to one was Bakuso, who became in the leader of the people for being the strongest. No one could beat him in the tournament that was held to decide who would rule them and that is because Bakuso was like a gorilla with massive muscle, many considered that facing him was suicide (that’s why very few signed up for the tournament). He beat the majority of his opponents with one punch. One guy was hit so hard on the head that he did not wake up until a week later, just at the moment when his relatives had decided to incinerate him.
The villagers were not very trusting of outsiders, mostly because they knew so little about the outside world and were afraid to venture beyond their borders. The farthest they have come has been the forest. So when a stranger came to town (which was a rare occurrence) all the villagers stared at him, like if he were a criminal. Obviously the outsiders were not at all comfortable with the situation, as if they were going to fulminate with their eyes them and they were not long in leaving. After they left the locals continued with their routine tasks.
Despite this, there were also friendly people in the village, such as a tall and lonely boy who had to take care of his sister and his sick mother, who had already been in bed for several days with a high fever. Over time it got worse, coughing and expelling bloody phlegm. The village healer did not give them false hope and was frank with the boys: she probably wouldn’t make it through that night. The news hit them like a bomb, if she died they wouldn’t have anyone else. The two entered to say goodbye to their mother, deep down they wanted to hug her and kiss her but they couldn’t, the healer had forbidden them due to the risk of contagion. So at a close enough distance they said goodbye. The boy will never forget the last words his mother said to him:
“Ken, always take care of your sister.”
The mother was cremated in the morning. The futon and sheets were also burned. The healer was the only one who accompanied the kids to the funeral. They saw through the fire how the silhouette of their mother was consumed. “I’ll take care of my sister always, I promise you,” Ken swore to himself.
And as for this nameless town (the people here are so uncreative that they didn’t even give it a name), it had never witnessed any terrible event or anything like that. Not until the arrival of a peculiar stranger.
