The night was suffocating.
Renjiro lay on the thin mattress in his dimly lit room, staring at the cracked ceiling. Sleep never came easily. Not with the whispers. Not with the weight of unseen eyes pressing against him.
Tonight was no different.
His body ached from training, every muscle protesting with dull pain. But what hurt more was the silence.
Silence meant loneliness. Silence meant being trapped with his thoughts.
And lately… his thoughts weren't just his own.
"You are weak."
Renjiro's body stiffened.
The voice slithered through the darkness, low and chilling, curling around him like a phantom's breath.
"You let them beat you down. You let them look at you like an insect."
His fingers clenched the sheets.
It wasn't the first time he had heard it.
At first, he thought it was his imagination. A trick of exhaustion. But the more he fought against it, the stronger it became—like something lurking just beneath the surface of a dark river, waiting for him to sink.
"You know they will never accept you."
"No one ever has."
"Not the villagers."
"Not the elders."
"Not even your precious mentor."
Renjiro's breathing grew shallow. His pulse pounded in his ears.
"They only tolerate you because they fear what you could become."
"You are nothing but a ticking bomb to them."
"A weapon to be discarded."
The words coiled around him, pressing into the deepest parts of his mind.
Were they lies?
His chest tightened.
No.
He had seen it in their eyes. In the way they avoided him. In the way they spoke about him as if he wasn't even human.
A curse.
A burden.
A thing to be feared.
"But I see you for what you truly are, Renjiro."
His breath hitched.
"I know your pain. I know your rage. And I know…"
The voice grew softer, curling into his mind like smoke.
"…the power that lies dormant within you."
The room suddenly felt smaller. Colder.
A chilling breeze swept through the wooden walls, though the window was shut. Shadows stretched unnaturally, shifting, pulsing, as if they were alive.
Renjiro pressed his hands against his head, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Leave me alone."
A chuckle. Low. Amused.
"Why? I am the only one who truly understands you."
He clenched his jaw.
"I don't need you."
The laughter grew deeper, vibrating through his very bones.
"Then why are you listening?"
The room darkened.
A pulse of something ancient thrummed in his chest, sending a sharp jolt through his veins.
Renjiro gasped, his eyes snapping open—
And in that moment, he saw it.
Not with his eyes. Not with his mind. But with something deeper.
A shadowed figure loomed at the edge of his consciousness, swirling tendrils of inky darkness curling around its form. Two burning violet eyes stared into his soul, endless and unreadable.
"You will need me, Renjiro."
The figure began to fade, dissolving into the surrounding void.
"And when you finally accept the truth…"
Its voice was barely a whisper now, but it echoed inside him like a promise carved in stone.
"I will be waiting."
And then—silence.
Renjiro sat upright, his breath ragged, sweat clinging to his skin. His fingers trembled as he touched his chest, where his heartbeat pounded like a war drum.
The room was still.
The shadows had returned to normal.
But deep inside… something had changed.
The whispers were growing louder.
And no matter how hard he tried—
He couldn't ignore them anymore.