許さない……、絶対に許さない……！

若者は怒りと憎しみにその身を引き裂かれ、時代の片隅に無残な屍を晒した。そうして誰にも顧みられることなく、歴史の狭間に埋もれて消えていく。あの頃は特別珍しい話でもないよくある話。

だが、その怒りか、憎しみ故か、若者は引き裂かれた身体を拾い集め、恨みの泥濘から這い出して来た。無残な姿をかつての仲間に晒し、濁りよどんだ想念を叩きつけるために。

そうして若者は復讐を果たした。

……はずだった。

なにも感じなかった。なにも遂げなかった。なにも、なにもなかった。だって、若者には最初からなにもなかったのだから。

そのなにかが欲しくて、剣を修め、書に学び、仲間のため、国のためと語るあの人達と同じ場所に立ちたくて。

そのためだったら命なんて惜しくない。誰より先に飛び出し、誰より先に戦いにその身を投じた。

たとえその先に無残な屍を晒したとしても。

あの北辰のように、たとえ、ひと時でも輝けるなら、誰かが若者を見てくれるだろうから。

―――誰かが見てくれるだろうから。

"I won't forgive them... I will never will!"

His self was rent asunder by rage and hatred, cast off as a mutilated, pitiable corpse, strewn upon the battlefield's forgotten margins. Unmourned, he vanished, interred in the sands of time. It wasn't precisely uncommon back then; rather, it was all too ordinary.

Yet whether by that anger or by that hatred, he scrabbled his ravaged form and clambered from the mire of resentment. All in order to show his former comrades the pitiable state to which he had been reduced, and to fling the filth of his rancid thoughts at them.

Thus he enacted his revenge.

...Or so it should've been.

But he felt nothing. He accomplished nothing. Nothing. Not a single thing. For the youth had never had anything to reclaim.

In the name of that nameless yearning, he took up the sword, pored over the texts, and yearned to stand shoulder to shoulder with those who spoke of fighting for their comrades and for their country.

For that purpose, he was prepared to sacrifice his life. Prepared to throw himself headlong into the fray, swifter and sooner than any other.

Even if it meant being left as a pitiable corpse in their wake.

He did so in the hope that if he could shine, even if for a fraction of a second, as bright as a star, then perhaps someone would see him.

Yes, someone would finally behold him.