When Asahi regained consciousness, his eyes felt blurry. He could feel his hands burning. There was an intense pain around his face, and he sharply inhaled. With a throat as coarse as sandpaper, instantly he started to cough.
His body on the bed started to curl and sided on the left side. As he brought his hands to his mouth, he realized he had no right palm. "Ahem, ahem," as he continued to cough, he started to crumble.
Along with the coughs, he started to spit blood as well. The blood flew through his lips and landed on his palm and the white futon. The realization made his eyes wide in terror. As his breath sank in, he could feel the loud beating of his heart.
'Since when did I turn into such a weakling?'
It was a question to which he had no answer. He had turned to something he had feared the most. The mortal who had nothing. Though he dreaded even looking at his horrible face, he used his left palm to lift the sleeves of his right hand slowly. Every inch revealed a horrible decaying state of his body.
His arms stinked. The physical embodiment of "in state of decay.".
Immediately he shut the sleeve and curled his body into a tiny ball. He was supposed to be the successor. He was to avenge his grandfather, so why? Why did it happen to him?
'Where did I go wrong'
How was he supposed to continue living? With such an appearance, he would never be accepted. Something that he has wanted for his entire life was taken away from him. As he bit his lips, the metallic blood mixed with his saliva. Asahi had glassy eyes; an amalgamation of unintentional grief and pain filled his thoughts.
"Why are you hiding here, master?"
The deep voice of the cat reverberated through the empty room. The cat used its paw to roll off the futon on top of Asahi's body. The distinct smell of a decaying and rotting body enveloped the room immediately. Though Kuro didn't have eyebrows, he furrowed his invisible brows.
The entire room had an unpleasant smell, and as he took a look at Asahi's face, it was rotting just like his soul. The skin around his face had flakes on pull-able skin. The yellow liquid continued to pour out from his face in a small amount, and he was in no state to be seen.
"No reason"
Despite the crumbling state of his body, mind, and soul, Asahi was still in denial. He did not wish to burden anyone, not even his family.
"Now now, I can see the thousands of reasons why you hide. But" Kuro stopped its words and jumped across Asahi's body. It reached to the windows, and using its paw and elongated body, it pushed open the windows, taking away the foul smell.
"It does not mean the end of your life. You are still a teen. There is life more than your present."
Kuro expressed.
Meanwhile, Asahi picked himself up and sat upright despite the unendurable pain around his entire body.
"Moreover, there is likely going to be the Hyakki Yagyo this year in the streets of Okinawa. You won't want to leave this opportunity after all; it only comes once, master," Kuro explained while jumping down the study table and sitting right in front of Asahi.
"One last thing: You are who you wish to be." With that, Kuro's body started to fade away into the thin air.
Asahi couldn't grasp his mind. 'There is more to life than the present' but anything more would be in the future. The future that no one had seen or known.
'Bullshit.' Ashi rolled his eyes. For a yokai to be giving advice about human life seemed sort of a meme. The dead teach the living, the forgotten give advice, and the living curse the ones left on Earth.
'You are who you wish to be. Such a crap.'
Was he a 10-year-old child to be told that? No, he was not. He was old enough to know tha-
"Ah!"
Asahi wailed in pain. His face felt like it was on fire. He could feel his skin peeling off. He could feel the pain around his hands and feet.
'But if I were to be whom I wished to be, then...'
Asahi had no answer. He had been so immersed in hate, so immersed in revenge, that there was no time for anything else.
'Perhaps a traveler.'
He wasn't sure. He knew he wasn't made for adventures, but somewhere deep within, he wanted to travel the world. See the differences, the way people thrived, and perhaps sooth his wounds by learning all that he wanted to know.
Just like the practices from his childhood. Though he never had intentions of becoming a monk, it had been a vital part of his life. For the first time, he had met people different from his background, while contrastingly, they shared similar consequences from the events of their lives.
'Maybe I should catch up with them too. It has been so long.'
As his thoughts began to flow like a flowing river that was not stagnant, he positioned himself in the meditation stance and started to meditate.
In the past, it was the only way he could control his anger after all. As he started to focus on his breath, his thoughts started to become clearer. His body started to emit a golden light, which healed parts of his body.
'How could I have been so stupid?'
He wished to hit himself. How could he let the judgment of the others affect the way he was made? On Earth, every person is different; there never was and never will be the same person next time. As the time changes, so will he. But it was up to him to accept himself the way he was.
To accept his flaws, to learn his strong points, and to live in a society. Despite the obsolete thoughts, it was his duty to look within himself for the answers; after all, his soul and his body were the only things he could ever own.