From the time Daichi was born, he lived in a world divided. The only son of a temple priestess and a foreign investor, he witnessed many heated arguments during his childhood.
When Daichi’s father revealed plans to turn the venerated Statue of Ryuu into hole 18 of a mini-golf course, tempers flared throughout the community. “Shame on him,” whispered the elders, “for his blatant disrespect for our traditions.”
“Shame on you,” whispered others. “He obtained the property rights fairly.”
“New construction will bring needed jobs,” argued many underemployed youths.
The battleground was the new asphalt parking lot. Protesters gathered defiantly, chanting to drown out the rumble of the bulldozers and the shouts of their rivals.
In the heat of the conflict, a hooded black figure emerged from the woods. Striding wordlessly across the parking lot, he drew back the bowstring and let fly a flaming arrow.
The arrow hit its mark, igniting the sacred statue and nearby construction equipment. Fueled by ancient wood and modern diesel, the conflagration swept across the parking lot. As the community fled the conflagration, they were united in their hatred for Daichi’s reckless endangerment. But they all agreed it was an impressive bonfire.