Yu Sakurakoji was born into a loving home, his father and mother tended to a somewhat successful inn between Ul'Dah and Gridania. His mother a wonderful gardener and chef maintained the food at the Inn for road weary travellers. His father a carpenter, tended to the inns repair and from time to time could hammer out a knick or dent in an adventurers gear. Eventually he had two sisters, who would go out to gather from the nature around them. It was a simple and average life.
He was 17 years old when Dalamund fell from the sky, but to his family it was a trivial thing "Eorzea has survived 6 Umbral Eras, it'll survive a moon" his dad would tell him. His future was decided, he would take over the Inn once his parents passed, and all he had was resentment at being chained down. Storming out with words of anger he fled his home, just in time to see the moon shatter apart. The world was red, then white and finally black.
When he came to, Yu's eyes burned, ears rang and body ached. The sight before him was terrible, the lands engulfed in flames, ash covered what remained of plants or animals. The crackling sound echoed through his blood filled ears, all the while a panic began to close around his heart until it threatened to choke the life from him.
He spun around and in a mad dash, stumbled his way back to the Inn.
Wood groaned as it fell to the ground reminding him of his fathers saw and hammer, the smell of ash and ember filled his nose as his mothers cooking once did, and the cackling flames resounded with his sisters voices. The Inn was gone, smothered in the embrace of crimson flames. His home, his past....the future he hated so much were gone, and with them all the certainties he had taken for granted...Yu Sakurakoji lost everything.
He would recall with distant eyes many years later, how he buried his family where the Inn stood, how he found whatever he could in the refuse and began traveling. His life as burnt as the Inn, all the simple happiness he had felt like ashes in his mouth. He would ride with caravans, travel to far off cities and towns, using what little he had gained form his life at the inn to make a living for himself.
It would be years of this wandering from place to place, homeless, friendless, hopeless. All the while his anger boiled, at the Empire for bringing that moon, for the Adventurers he admired who couldn't stop it, for the Kami who let it happened, at his Father for not surviving when the world continued on as he had said. The anger would rage, the flames dancing from one blame to another, when suddenly he could only be angry with himself and the regret he felt about his last moments with his family.
For the first time in 5 years he went to his families graves, praying for a safe journey, for their strength when he had none and made his way to Limsa Lominsa to train as an Arcanist and begin his journey to fight for the future instead of for the sadness of his past.
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