A flame was struck. Rebellion. The island, Cinnabar, rising under the banner of the Hanabi clan; the flaming flower upon a bed of stars. The Lord, Hanabi Kenshin, was popular and fanatically followed by his supporters. His son, Hanabi Tomoya, was a rising duelist and newfound ace pokemon trainer. The peoples of Cinnabar had the aid of their neighboring clans- but it was not enough.

Clever battles, a tense betrayal, a last stand. Hanabi Kenshin fell. Hanabi Tomoya went into exile. Hanabi Yasashi, but a child, was left standing in her ancestral home atop the Volcano when the Shogunate forces made their move and captured her. The rebellion died that day, with the child-symbol of their leadership now a hostage of the Shogun. The lands were pacified, oppressed, and left to rebuild.

Rather than dismantle the Hanabi clan, however, the Shogunate decided to maintain it and keep the girl as a ward. Seeking to groom and educate her into a puppet Lord of the region. The Hanabi rebellion had only sparked the fervent heart of the Vermillion Prefecture; the Shogun was concerned with more uprisings following the martyr's example. Thus Hanabi Yasashi was kept alive; taught; trained; educated. She was indoctrinated into the life of Saffron Village.

Her only memory and symbol of home was the Ponyta permitted her by the shogun; the foal of her brother's own famous Rapidash. She named it Ajairu, childishly so, in reference to the immense speed the creature possessed.

She became a shining example of a Samurai. Defending the Shogunate's honor, handling herself with elegance and charm, pursuing the arts and seeking to master the self. Some at court secretly whispered foul names and suspicions, Imperial Dog, Traitor at Heart, Daughter of a Criminal, etcetera, but none dared challenge the respected warrior openly in the courts nor in the dueling ring. She had the favor of the Shogun, and a legacy as a burden.

To make matters worse, her brother had become a nuisance in the side of the Shogunate. The ace trainer and prodigious warrior of the Hanabi Clan was waging a bandit war against the Shogun and his supporters- but word of his death eventually spread through the land, bringing Hanabi Yasashi back into the focus of all.

She wrote a poem;

Fire fades at last
Let ashes lie where they may
Let Spring come again

And with precious little time to truly mourn, the Shogun has now tasked her with what seems to be the impossible;

The land is at war, fractured and split. Lady Hanabi Yasashi, in the Shogun's name, unite the lands!

Growing up was a lot different than what Kurayami's life is now.

He was born the son of a respected Samurai of Shogun Fuji's court known by the name of Junichirō Kondō. Being born to such status is something many would kill for - and much to the joy of the Kondō family, it seemed their blood was strong within little Kurayami. From a very young age he showed promise and a strong disposition towards the way of their occupational familial ties. It was quickly that the young boy grasped the lessons taught to him by his father and the many tutors afforded them by their station.

The boy grew fast. There were some bumps along the way, but the Kondō family couldn't be more happy with the overall progress their son had come to achieve. It wasn't until Kurayami's mid-teen years that they hit their first real roadblock. The young boy collapsed in pain during training, prompting his father to stoop to his aid quickly. Young Kurayami was just that - young - but the secret he had been hiding for weeks was something even he knew he wouldn't be able to keep to himself forever, even though he knew that such a thing would strip him of any hope of becoming a Samurai in the Shogun's court. He reluctantly told his father. For weeks he had been hiding severe shooting pains in the muscles of his left leg - but there was no explanation he could find for it.

After a few agonizingly long days waiting for one of Junichirō's trusted physicians to analyze the problem, it was ultimately decided that the issue was genetic, and there was no way to cure it. Junichirō himself was devastated, but Kurayami pleaded with him hour after hour to let him become a samurai anyways. He would persevere - he could ignore it. Eventually Junichirō allowed it, although skeptical as he was. They would keep it secret.

From then on, more of young Kurayami's lessons were in private - but he didn't let his condition deter him. He had never wanted anything more - every fiber of his being was determined to become a samurai.

As his adolescent training began to come to an end, Junichirō started to insert his son into even more traditional ceremonies - one of the more important ones being Miai. Young Kurayami was only moderately interested in this specific process, but wasn't a heartbreaker - he would entertain the idea but never coldly turn anyone down. The process was going a bit too slowly for Junichirō's tastes - but that worry was soon halted when one woman he introduced, Sakura Yamazaki, stole Kurayami's attention entirely. She was a stubborn woman, seeming less interested in the process than even him, but something about her just pulled him in.

It took weeks for Kurayami to pry past the edged exterior the woman made him face, but eventually he did - and their love soared - much to Junichirō's happiness. The lovebirds grew to be the closest you'd ever seen, and their relationship and love came to be revered and used as an example amongst the court.

However, there was still more responsibilities for the now-young-man Kurayami. It was difficult for his father to pry him away from his love to continue his training and duties. The young man even managed to sometimes sneak out of his training to accompany Sakura in her own duties, which she would abandon for him in turn. Their commitment to each other seemed to overshadow everything around them - they were in their own little bubble.

With Sakura by his side, time went by quickly for Kurayami - it wasn't much longer before the fact he had finally become a samurai was sprung upon him seemingly out of nowhere. He was pulled away from his love and was finally thrust into his true duty - serving as an active samurai under Shogun Fuji.

And serve he did. For over a year Kurayami served under the Shogun - and quite a samurai he was. Despite the longing he felt for his bride, he somehow managed to use it as a fuel to power past the disruptiveness of the condition that he still hid to this day. Despite having a few self-imposed rough patches in his training, his blood was a brew for battle, and he made his family proud. Kurayami, however, found himself no longer caring about that. His duty made him miserable if it kept him away from what he truly wanted - and eventually he decided to act on it.

He deserted. After just over a dozen-and-a-half months of serving as a samurai, Kurayami deserted his post.
He returned to Sakura and they stole each other away. They fled south of Saffron Village, where they had grown up, and made a small, secluded home for themselves with what wealth they had stolen away. The home they'd made for themselves was quaint - unlike what they were used to - but even if it had been a hovel they wouldn't have cared. They were there for each other.

And there they stayed for years. Kurayami, although it was a learning process, eventually managed to set up a bit of a homestead and worked the land modestly, raising a few livestock Pokémon to supply for them and their soon-to-be-born child.

It was peaceful.

At some point along the way, the former samurai caught word of one of the many bouts of infighting amongst the clans that resulted in the death of his father. It.. was a hard blow. Part of him broke down when he heard it. His father had been so kind to him. Part of him wondered if.. if he had been there..
He slapped himself out of the thought.

He returned home after hearing the news and told his wife of his plan to visit the funeral in secret. Fortunately the whole plan worked out smoothly. There was a small hiccup when Kurayami tried stealing his father's wakizashi, but in the end it worked out, and he got to keep a solidified memory of his dad. That night he had a mourning drink - or a few - in the closest bar he could find, and afterwards made the oh-so-safe trek back to their homestead. He didn't make it even a couple steps past the front door before he passed out.

He woke only an hour or so later, it seemed, to the sound of a blood-curdling scream. He was sobered immediately. He stood wobblily, the buzz distracting from the pain in his leg as he drew his father's wakizashi with more fluidity than one would expect from a drunk man. He shouted for his wife, stumbling through the home to their bedroom, where he smashed through the door unceremoniously. The sight before him made the blood in his veins turn to ice. A dark figure dropped out of the window just as he entered, and another figure laid completely still on the floor at the foot of their bed.

Kurayami dropped the sword and fell to his knees, his hands shaking as he grabbed the still shape of Sakura. He pled with himself to somehow fix her, his pleading leading into hysterics as he just stared at his dead wife, repeatedly checking her bloodflow and breathing despite it obviously being too late. His eyes burned as his tears fell onto what was once such a bright light in his life. His frantic eyes twitched up from her and to a shape that caught his eye nearby against the corner. His trembling hands left the still-warm skin of his beloved. He hurriedly stumbled, tripping over his own feet to reach the other shape. Another shadow peeled away from the corner nearby and lunged at him in defense of the smaller one before it suddenly stopped itself -- Hisa, the Doduo with which he served the Shogunate alongside, covered in blood from a gash across its chest.

Kurayami ignored it and crawl in desperation towards the shape swathed in small, thin blankets. He couldn't hold back the flow of tears as he realized his child was not screaming.

He collapsed, letting the overwhelming sorrow overtake him. Hisa tried to nudge him with her beaks, despite her own wounds, but he reached up and shoved her away, throwing himself up, ignoring the pain in his leg as he stomped over to the window. He screamed into the darkness in complete unbridled rage, throwing every obscenity that he knew as the tears streamed down his face. He smashed his fist into the wall at each word, bloodying it. Eventually, he ran out of words, and he let himself fall to the floor.

Why.. who.. would do this..? Was I followed home? Was it a rival clan? Did the Shogunate find me?

He had so many unanswered questions tearing through his brain - all plastered onto the pale afterimage of his wife's blood-spattered face. He didn't know whether to let the sorrow take him or the rage. All he could do was weep. Hisa tried to comfort him once again, scooching over and lowering her beaks. She recoiled when he raised a trembling hand, but allowed him to take her into a weak hug.

I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry..

It was there that he wept until he passed out.

- - -

It's now been almost a year since then. His life has changed...immeasurably. He found nowhere to turn after the death of his wife and child, and ended up wandering back towards Saffron Village after all the years away. He makes his dues through various tasks and quests usually well under his true station - but work isn't too scarce for a skilled Ronin. He doesn't truly know what he's doing, but feels.. some form of obligation to both his late father and late wife to do better than.. whatever it was he was doing when they were still around. The underlying guilt drawn from the death of his father pushes him to hold interest in the welfare of the clans and the Shogunate, and the knowledge that his wife was always proud of his prowess as a respected samurai leads him to want to act on it - in spite of how hard that would currently be.