A/N: So basically, this is a prequel to Kubo and the Two Strings about how Sariatu and Hanzo came to meet before actually meeting. I hope it's to your liking!

She was barefoot, her geta resting behind her. A soft breeze whispered unintelligible words in the night and suddenly the hum of the crickets song cut short as she sucked in a breath, and her eyelids split open into soft, brown almond pupils. In the midst of where she stood, there was an eternally full moon barely touching the lip of a massive, jagged cliff. The dark rocky surface was bathed in the silvery light of the orb balanced in a star studded sky. She narrowed her gaze at the mountain that loomed far in the distance, dry trees swirling in blue and purple shades with the winds that seemed to grow louder. Her eyes then lifted to the main subject of which her father ruled with no question.

In her many centuries of following her father's orders, she'd come to loath the ever present light which invaded her dreams and ensured they as well as her would always be carefully watched far from the blinding rays of the sun. Her older sister Miyuki had figured out their fathers tactics for monitoring their lucid dreams when she stared hard into the surface one night, only to find the glow of his eyes within the web of craters. What he did with the information collected Sariatu did not know and did not bring up the matter although there were many nights where it would've pleasured her to tell the old man off and allow her dreams to remain hers and hers alone.

There were, however, nights where The Moon King, as her eldest sister Harumi had taken to nickname him, was simply too occupied with his right to rule and destroy those who opposed his reign as a powerful god.

Through decades of practice, the youngest daughter had learned how to detect the subtle signs of her being watched not only through the moon, but through the wind as well. While her mind orchestrated their own fantasies for her to achieve in her dreams, her father held the the power to manipulate them- if only slightly. It was enough to make her pause before she performed any actions that would indicate suspicious behavior.

The moon was only the first sign of her father. The next sign was the very wind which billowed through the air and sky, scattering the paper-like scraps and blossoms around the gravel surface and far into the nether regions even her broadest imagination couldn't fathom.

If the wind blew smoothly and most telling: innocuously, Sariatu hardly needed to look to the moon for guidance. If harmony prevailed even within her control, there was no telling how strongly The Moon King monitored her escape from reality. But if there was chaos; sweet, unpredictable chaos in the gusts from far away, it meant there was no control. No order, and no one to make it so.

From her peripheral vision she squinted at the swirl of a maple leaf as it took flight. At first, it was smooth sailing, the purple glow from its wooded birthplace surrendering to a subdued maroon. But then, a burst of cool air shoved the leaf along its path, curling and rolling in uneven patterns until it got caught on the strap of her geta.

Sariatu smiled softly at that leaf. Her father was strict enough that even a single particle of dust out of order would result in a fuming rage felt for days. Those days were equally painful for the three daughters and the mortals down below who quaked at the storming skies that disrupted the pureness of the night.

Taking confidence in the first night alone in weeks, she lifted her arms slowly and rose into the sky, the gravel leaving a great cloud of dust in its wake to settle as imperfectly as she pleased. With what powers she possessed on her own, she twirled gracefully and embraced the warm summer air, taking in the endless domain of stars that twinkled around her.

Of course, this was one of the few nights which her sisters would've taken advantage of the peace, and ensnared the stars in their nets of black and provide an easier time doing who knew what. Oftentimes, they would cover the moon as well, knowing what their father couldn't see, couldn't hurt anyone. But Sariatu relished the light she received in the darkness of the night more so than her sisters. That wasn't to say she would dare enter the mortal world in the burning rays of the sun, but there was always a larger part of her that held curiosity for what the light could show her that darkness enshrouded.

Most of all, it was a sight hazard. When in motion, ground or sky, she couldn't see the beauty of the world below with a still, ink blackness sliding seamlessly over everything. What existed in her dreams were things she somehow knew neither Harumi or Miyuki thought of in their increasing levels of control: the porspect of the world she couldn't be part of, as a goddess.

And while she willingly followed her father's will as much as her older sisters did, in the remote (and uncommon) privacy of her dreams were the true possibilities explored, out of her families wandering eye. There had been hundreds of dreams consisting of simple life as a mere peasant on the ground- fantasies of a family with a beautiful stranger whom she would never see beyond his back.

Her almond brown eyes scanned the purple forest, looking along the endless ocean of quivering oak and maple for any signs of what she'd dreamed of the night before, and the night before that. She would always encounter him in different ways. Sometimes, it was through the shimmer of his steel sword as he defended his village and namesake with honor and justice. Sometimes, it was as he rode his horse along the marked rural pathways. Sometimes she spied him when he bathed in the river… those were special nights indeed.

In the months that she'd begun to dream of love, the very same man always appeared: Broad shouldered with sleek, black hair, and wielded a sword and bow with such precision she knew not even her father held in his millennia of training. He was a samurai, born to defend those close and attack those far. She didn't even know his name, and yet she couldn't explain such a feeling of connection to him. Sariatu knew from the first time she laid her truthfully empty eyes upon him she could never tell her father, and her sisters were varying shades of gray. Whenever she spied upon him, she'd made certain her father could never see what she allowed to happen in her dreams.

To her father and her sisters, love meant weakness. The only trouble was, Sariatu didn't exactly understand the definition of love. She'd never felt it for anyone, as far and long as she'd known in centuries of existence. But this samurai was a secret of hers she knew she had to hide. Whatever she felt for him, and whatever she knew of love, there was a correlation between the two that couldn't be easily denied.

Rearing down towards a dip in the purple treetops, the light of a campfire burned bright beneath the blanket of stars. She saw his figure sitting on a falling log, and a strange device perched upon his lap. Wafting into the dark shadows, she maneuvered carefully through the twigs and branches of the trees, unable to make a sound in her dreams to alert the man of her desire that she was watching him from afar. As the goddess leaned in closer, the robes of her kimono pouring over the branch she settled upon, the device perched upon the soldiers knee uttered a single note.

Instantly, a red maple leaf swirled from the canopy to the space before the samurai, and appeared to become sentient. It was almost like a form of magic. Realization flashed across her pale face in the light of the small fire. She had learned of a such a force before- a shamisen that wielded magic to manipulate the nature her family was supposed to control. Her father had long dismissed such a powerful weapon as a myth until it was used against him however many centuries ago.

It was the one thing capable of removing their immortality… what made them above the pitiful humans beneath their domain. Sariatu suddenly felt a sense of rage boiling beneath her ghostly white skin as her mortal form began to shed itself like the curling shell of a cocoon. The almond brown of her eyes receded into hollow darkness. She had to destroy that thing before it destroyed her.

"I know you're up there." The samurai lamented and set his shamisen to the side.

Instantly the rage melted away at his voice. It wasn't the first time she'd felt her heart tremble at his tone. Her grip faltered, her eyes flashing back and before she realized what was happening her back collided with the grassy forest floor. She brought a hand to her head, massaging the feeling back into her cheek from where it had dented into a pinecone.

He stood up, leaving his weapon at the logs end. This made no sense. How was he so lively now after months of only fleeting glances? How had she faltered in a world she controlled?

The man sauntered up to her but in her mortal form, she kept her head bowed in modesty. "You seem to be a long way from home." He noticed as he looked her over. She could feel his eyes, beautiful as they must've been, burning into her slumped form as she heated with embarrassment beneath her yukata but said nothing. All the while she stumbled over the question of how.

"You should know better than to talk to me, mortal ." She hissed, knowing whatever this man had pretended to be in her dreams, he was now her reason to fight. Too long she'd failed to do her part in protecting her family, and the influence of a weapon powerful enough to shake the pantheon was enough to shove her far off the edge. Her eyes swelled under an inky sea.

"I should?" The samurai questioned incredulously. "As I recall you seem familiar. I know I've seen you before, but where?" He continued on with almost a pathetic demeanor of false guessing.

She bit back a growl as the darkness that was her power began to involuntarily weep from her fingertips. She was losing patience with this man. Once she ended him, her dreams would be all she could tell her family about. Her father would be pleased.

Sariatu turned her head up to glare, and in that moment she felt more mortal and weak as any dream she'd ever had in centuries.

The samurai had his gauntlet covered hand extended down towards her, and she gazed upon his face for the first time in her visions of him. And in all her longing she never could've asked for more. His brown eyes were wide with a playful yet remarkably cheesy grin. His skin glowed orange in the small, somewhat distant fire, and the unshaven whiskers of developing facial hair were groomed and guided weakly into a goatee. His silky black hair was tightened in a bun and beneath his armor he looked bigger that the tree she'd fallen from. Her jaw popped open like it was spring loaded. She had never felt so helpless accepting his help to stand as he took to brushing the dirt and grass stains from her yukata. Somewhere between the hammering of her heart, she heard him ask her name.

"Sariatu." She whispered quietly, as though the world left her catatonic and gave her a breath of air to choke on.

"A beautiful name." The soldier bowed. "I'm Hanzo."

Suddenly she prayed to the gods that her father couldn't somehow see her blush. What was happening? Was this what love felt like? Was this such a bad thing? Then her eyes fell to the charismatic man's shamisen.

She would obtain that deadly weapon at all costs. She had to or there was no telling what damage this roach could inflict upon her family. Her eyes suddenly shut and involuntarily sucked in a breath. The wind blew a powerful gust, scattering the maroon maple leaves in dancing patterns through the clearing. The man's words quickly faded to indistinguishable babble. The color of the world through her eyelids seemed to fade rapidly. Someone was waking her up. She forced her brown eyes open and gave the man of her desires a cold glare as her dreams faded from existence, and reality began the fast-paced yet arduous march towards waking up in her world.

Hanzo… The girl mused quietly. She would remember that name.

"Sister, wake up!" She heard the urgent voice of one of her sisters as she lazily opened her eyes and turned up to face her. Miyuki was peering down at her as she stirred on the tatami floor. Arching her back, Sariatu barely had time to yawn before Miyuki grabbed hold of her hand and gave her a tug.

"Miyuki, wait!" She pulled back only for her sister to let go and send her tumbling back onto the plush mat that she slept on. "What's going on," She looked around the empty room, moonlight pouring in from outside signifying that it was nighttime. "It's the middle of the night."

"You know father's most active during the night." She frowned at her younger sister who instantly recoiled.

"Something's happened." Sariatu concluded emptily and shut her eyes before her mind could illustrate any of her worst nightmares.

Miyuki nodded. "Get dressed." She grabbed her not her sisters yukata, but her robes which were tucked neatly in the underfloor compartment she had opened before waking her. The black robes and straw hat that they saved only for entering the world of mortals to assert their authority.

"We're going down there?" She caught the hat and then the bundle of black as her sister tossed them over.

Miykui shook her head and bit her lip. In the light of the moon there was a distant reflection to her seemingly empty black eyes, showing what she still had yet to truly give up despite the fact that she had no eyes, and by their fathers logic no humanity, through her immortality she held concern. It could've been for their father, for their powers… Sariatu couldn't fathom what went on in her older sisters head. None of them ever wore their masks or robes at home, where there was nothing to be hidden.

"I don't know." She answered. "But Harumi has warned me to be prepared for anything." The middle sister tossed part of her robe behind her shoulder and revealed the hilt of her sword, as if indicating Sariatu would require it. "Meet us in the throne room and walk quickly. You know father doesn't like to be kept waiting."

The youngest sister flew through the halls of her family's castle, her black robes carrying a wind that shunned the light of the many paper lanterns, wisps of thin smoke curling behind her like cresting waves. The throne room was within view and the large doors were held open to the outside, letting the warm summer breeze infiltrate the sacred place where their all powerful father sat and flexed his endless strength even in his ripening old age.

Harumi and Miyuki sat on their knees in a straight line before her father, bowed in respect and waiting for their youngest to fulfill the empty pillow on the left side of the room. It was painfully embarrassing to be late to their meetings on any normal mission such as slaughtering the warlords which disrespected him… but it was a whole other level of shame for doing so when it was obvious the matter was so urgent.

She reached the throne room and the two layers of doors separating the throne room from the garden slammed shut in her wind. The lanterns above burst with light as Sariatu lowered herself down on her pillow next to her sisters, ignoring the glare Harumi gave her for her tardiness. Her eldest sister had always been wrapped around his finger.

The youngest goddess kept her head lowered and bowed deeply. "I am deeply sorry father." She offered no excuses as The Moon King raised an eyebrow from his elaborate throne, but it soon fell.

"You are forgiven, daughter." He answered.

Harumi straightened up and her other sisters did the same. "Father, you awoke us stating there was important business you needed to share with us."

"I did." He cast a nod at his three children.

Miyuki continued. "What do you require of us?"

"Is there danger to be found?" Sariatu narrowed her empty black eyes at the man who'd raised her and an empire all on his own. Silence eclipsed the room as each sister made her own conclusion. Her father stood, black mist pooling beneath his feet. "There is." He admitted, folding his arms behind his back. "And I'm afraid I require much of your help."

"Who is the fool?" Harumi growled menacingly and Sariatu could hear her hand close around the hilt of her sword. "Whoever it is, we shall make them pay."

The Moon King held up a hand, silencing his eldest daughter. "My dear, you mustn't underestimate all foes. You know I never would've called you here if I could defeat this mortal myself."

"But father," Miyuki interjected. "They are mortal. What strength could they possibly wield against us?"

He frowned. "A magic which our kind have foretold for millennia before myself. The shamisen which can bend the laws I have created for the world. With such manipulation of the order of life comes our immortality. If that instrument were to be used against us, we would lose everything we've built together."

Miyuki let her surprise be known while inky black mist poured from the darkness of Harumi's cape. "But you said it didn't exist." Miyuki exclaimed darkly.

"I know." The Moon King answered, tone somewhat annoyed. "I never thought such a power existed."

"But they are mortal." Miyuki smiled wickedly. "And if they are mortal, they can be crushed like a beetle."

Harumi shared her smile. "Easily so. With the three of us, there's no way this mortal, shamisen or no, can defeat the daughters of the Moon King."

The king seemed to disapprove at their cockiness, but the look left him within a pause as Sariatu asked the final question on everyone's mind. "Father, what is the name of the mortal who wields the shamisen?"

Silence prevailed in the throne room for what felt like an eternity. Her father had made a full rotation of the room before turning back to his daughters and giving them the final piece of the puzzle with which to act.

"Hanzo." He seethed with restrained rage. "The samurai Hanzo."

A/N Next chapter is coming out shortly!