Grasping at shadows in a fading light, Akifumi trembled.
The air was laden with a crushing weight, with each step driving Akifumi deeper into the labyrinth of his own fears. Kizu was taken out there, lost in the clutches of the unknown, and the chilling possibility of what he might be facing clawed, unceasingly, at Akifumi's thoughts
His boots struck the pavement with a steady rhythm, with the fading daylight casting long, slanted shadows across the alleys. The graffiti-covered walls and the hum of vehicles all seemed to blur around him—the city became a canvas of his fading memories.
But his mind was far from settled.
How did it come to this? The thought repeated like a broken record, each echo suffocated Akifumi—weighted by the rush of his situation.
How did I get caught in this tangled, perilous chaos?
In haste, Akifumi reached the familiar spot where they had ambushed him, where they had stolen Kizu away. The area was deserted now, the silence oppressive, it pressed on Akifumi like a shroud of despair.
Fists clenched at his sides, shaking tremulously, frustration boiling beneath the surface. Of course, they're gone. The thought was bitter—the emptiness swallowing him each second. His eyes scanned the empty alleyway, with his heart sinking as the reality of his helplessness set in.
Like a relentless tide, each thought pounded against him, twisting and colliding.
The weight of it all bore down, pulling him further into the chaos and leaving him puffing for clarity; hammering him like a wave against a shore, incessant and merciless. He wanted to scream, to do something, but the weight of it all left him gasping, struggling to breathe as the chaos within him continued to rage
Kizu's abduction was just the beginning. Then, the presence of those mysterious figures loomed large, their threat being a constant reminder. He couldn't afford to make a mistake.
If they find out… if I slip up… everything could unravel.
It gripped him, with fear seeping into every breath he took. "Damn it, Kizu!" His voice trembled, frustrated and desperate. "Why did it have to be this way?!"
His hands balled into tight fists, nails digging into his palms as his mind raced, but every answer slipped further from reach, leaving him only with more thoughts.
All of this... All of this wouldn't have happened if...
Flashes of fragmented memories then surged through Akifumi's mind. He saw Kizu, caught in a place that seemed to pulse with instability—walls bending, colors bleeding into one another, and the ground shifting underfoot as if reality itself were unraveling.
Kizu stood amidst the chaos, his figure trembling, eyes wide and desperate. The world around him flickered, its moments stretching and collapsing—each second an uncertain battle against a reality that refused to stay still. Kizu's hands reached out, grasping at nothing, his isolation seared in the dissonance of a world that couldn't settle.
If I hadn't interfered... if I hadn't tried to pull him out of it...
The guilt gnawed at him—every flash was a painful reminder of the moment he crossed a line he never should have. He remembered standing before Kizu, cloaked and distant, warning him against his path of escape.
Kizu, this isn't escape, he had said, the words cutting deeper into his mind.
But then, he paused. Something else lingered at the edge of his thoughts, a gnawing question that refused to let go. Kizu. The name felt too familiar, resonating with an unsettling clarity.
How did I know his name?
A cold shiver ran down his spine as the image of the lake resurfaced, its waters shimmering with a strange, otherworldly glow.
The Lake of Transcendence—where realities blurred and collided.
He could almost hear his boss's voice, quiet and tense, the words clipped, as if they could never fully capture the lake represented. The lake had always been a shadow in his mind, but now, it pressed in on him, closer, unsettlingly vivid.
It had changed things, shifting everything, and imprinted Kizu's presence into Akifumi's very being. It wasn't a mere coincidence. It couldn't be.
That's where it started… where I first felt it. The lake had done something to him, shifted everything. His jaw clenched as he recalled the flickering worlds, Kizu caught in the middle of it all. It wasn't coincidence. It couldn't be.
Why did I feel so compelled to step in? The question circled; fragments of memory slipping through his mind like grains of sand. There had been something at the lake—something about Kizu—something Akifumi couldn't define—but it was slipping away—fading into a fog Akifumi couldn't clear.
I don't remember...
Why can't I remember it...?
It had unsettled him then, now it clawed on him. Yet, it was out of reach.
"There's no time for this!" he snapped, shaking his head to clear it as he pushed forward. I can't stop now. Kizu needs me. The rush pounded in his chest, driving him through the labyrinth of alleys.
Akifumi vaulted over fences, his feet pounding against the pavement as he navigated the labyrinthine streets. He scaled walls, leaped across gaps, and slid under railings, each movement fluid yet frantic. But every turn seemed to lead him further astray. The alleys twisted and turned, dumping him into unfamiliar streets.
This place is a maze… I can't find him like this. His frustration mounted, with each wrong turn giving a blow to his resolve.
"I promised," Akifumi whispered fiercely as his voice trembled with the weight of his vow. "I promised Azuto I'd bring Kizu back. I can't fail him… I can't fail Kizu."
The thought of breaking that promise gnawed at him, fueling a deeper determination. His jaw tightened as the stakes crystalized—this was more than just a rescue. It was a lifeline, a chance to protect someone who had become inexplicably important.
The weight of his powers thrummed beneath the surface, a tempting whisper of ease and escape. But with that ease came the risk of exposure, the unraveling of everything he had sworn to keep hidden.
Once again, it echoed in him.
If they find out…
But then, his resolve entrenched.
No... I will not let that happen!
Akifumi is trapped in a world where his abilities held no sway, where there were no shortcuts, no supernatural solutions to lean on.
He shouldn't need powers here, not when the world demanded something more grounded, more human. This world wasn't prepared for the supernatural, and neither was Kizu.
I will do this without them.
His determination solidified, bound by a fragile yet profound connection, driving him forward. Kizu needed him, and Akifumi couldn't afford to falter—not now, not ever. Each step forward was fueled by the unshakable resolve to keep his promise, no matter the cost.
***
The torture dragged on, like an eternity of unyielding pain.
Kizu's body trembled with exhaustion, his skin marred by countless bruises, cuts, and the deep imprint of his suffering. His face, a grotesque map of contusions, bore the marks of brutality, his lips swollen and bloodied.
His black-red tracksuit, once pristine, was now tattered, with rips along the sleeves and dirt caked into the fabric. The seams of his pants were strained, the threads torn from the countless blows.
The pain, an unrelenting tide, pulled him under with every breath, and every movement became his struggle. It was as if his very soul was being torn apart, and in the haze of torment, his mind felt like it was slipping away.
His suffering mirrored a haunting tale of a young man, once whole, now fractured under the weight of a cruel torment—bound, broken, and remade in the crucible of agony, left teetering on the edge of humanity.
Kizu's voice was hoarse, barely a whisper of defiance left. "Enough... stop it…" The words were a fragile plea, a desperate attempt to reclaim some semblance of control.
Akira's laugh echoed through the dark, empty space. "I'm surprised you're still holding off," he taunted, his voice steeped in mockery.
"But that's more convenient for me! You'll get to suffer even more!" His words were laced with an almost sickening glee, as if the pain he was inflicting on Kizu fueled his own twisted pleasure.
Kizu's body slumped, breathes ragged and shallow. His eyes glistened, the faint shimmer revealing a pain too deep for words, as if each labored breath pulled him closer to the brink of collapse.
"I'm beaten up already... isn't that enough for you?" His voice wavered, cracking under the weight of despair.
The searing ache in his limbs and the sharp sting of his wounds blurred together in a haze of agony. His gaze was unfocused, thoughts splintering, as if his mind tottered on the edge of a precipice, ready to shatter under the crushing weight.
"For what you've done?" Akira's voice turned cold, almost contemptuous. "Hell, it's not even close!" He paused, then, a wicked grin spreads across his face.
"What if I snap one of your fingers... one by one?"
The idea was made with delighted malice, the madness in Akira's eyes were undeniable as he spoke the words.
"That should make it even for the both of us!" He hissed, laced with a dark, poisonous thrill.
The tension in the room thickened, suffocating, as if the very air itself was charged with violence.
Kizu's chest heaved, his breath shallow, his body teetering on the brink of collapse. A wave of terror surged through him, sharper than the pain. His heart thundered in his chest, his hands trembling uncontrollably as his mind recoiled into fear. "No... no..." he murmured, his voice fracturing.
"NO! STOP IT!" The scream ripped from him, primal and desperate. Pinned down, he thrashed, eyes wide, searching frantically for a way out of the nightmare that is tightening its grip around him.
Akira's approaching, his presence became a weight as his footsteps echoed towards Kizu. "It's all your fault, Kizu," Akira's voice was steady, almost mechanical. "All your fault."
The words struck like a lash, the cold truth of them digging into Kizu's fractured mind. The world around him seemed to implode, his sanity hanging by a thread. In a final, desperate roar, Kizu screamed louder than he ever had before.
"NOOOOOOO!!!!"
His mind shattered, every ounce of his being unraveling as he succumbed to the unbearable fusion of mental anguish and physical pain. His body was broken, his spirit pushed to its absolute limit. The cry was the sound of a soul being consumed by darkness.
Kizu's head fell forward, the weight of despair crushing him. "It's over… it's all over for me…" he whispered to himself, the words thick with resignation. The pain, the guilt, the sense of impending death—all of it twisted together into a single, unbearable truth.
"I'm going to die this way… a bitter, brutal death..."
His breath came slowly, barely more than a whisper, as the world seemed to press down on him. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the sharp, metallic scrape of the tool against the stone floor. Each sound was a reminder of the inevitability of his fate.
He remained there, a shattered figure, awaiting the sharp, cold bite of the tool as it drew nearer.
...
...
And then, a voice—clear and commanding—broke through the fog of his thoughts.
"No, you're not going to die here."
The voice was powerful, as though it carried with it the weight of a thousand unspoken promises.
Kizu blinked, disoriented. His surroundings shifted. Time slowed, its very flow seeming to bend as if he were no longer bound by its constraints. He found himself in a strange domain, a place that seemed outside of time itself—an endless expanse of swirling lights and shadows. His shackles clinked, unyielding, but in the vast, unknowable realm, they felt less real, as though they belonged to a different world.
"I thought you wanted to escape, Kizu. Why are you giving up now?!" the voice urged, its words echoing his own internal struggle. It was his other self—the part of him long buried beneath suffering—manifested before him. Their face mirrored his, yet there was something unsettlingly different about it.
"I can't," Kizu rasped, his voice barely more than a broken whisper as he faced the figure before him.
"Even when Fantasy intervened, I'm still trapped in this world. Nothing's changed. Nothing ever will. I'm weak… I'm not worth saving…"
His voice faltered, a heavy weight of defeat pressing on his chest.
"I deserve this…"
The other Kizu's eyes flared with fury.
In an instant, he seized Kizu by the collar, shaking him with raw intensity.
"So you'll let the world break you like this?"
"They tarnished you, condemned you, crushed you—they ruined everything you have, all for what?!" His voice burned with righteous anger, the flames of it lighting up his every word.
"Is this how you want to die, Kizu?"
"No…" Kizu choked out, the word laced with resignation, as though even speaking it was an effort. But deep inside, something stirred—a flicker of resistance he couldn't quite name. His anger began to rise, smoldering beneath the surface, fed by the injustice he'd suffered.
"Do you want to change this?" the voice pressed, its tone sharper now, cutting through the fog of his apathy. "Do you want to break free of this hell you're in?"
Kizu's breath hitched, the words stirring something deep inside him. His chest tightened, not from the weight of despair, but with a raw, untamed frustration. "I… I don't want to die like this," he whispered, the words trembling with pain and defiance. "I… I can't just let this be the end…"
"Then seize this, Kizu," the voice commanded, its urgency rising. "Use this power. The power from the world you've always dreamed of."
"The power of fantasy."
A brilliant golden aura surged from within him, bathing him in light that was both soothing and terrifying in its intensity. It wrapped around him like a living thing, pulsing with a power that seemed to demand release. Each wave of heat and light coursed through his body, his emotions fueling the fire that ignited within him. Anger, desperation, and a longing for something more. The aura thrummed with life, ready to break free.
"I refuse to be...in a reality like this..."
Kizu murmured, the words a vow, quiet but fierce. As he spoke, the golden light blazed brighter, expanding, enveloping him in a blinding wave of liberation. His emotions surged with it, every ounce of pain and fury, every fragment of his soul desperate to break free. This was only the beginning—his awakening. The first spark of something that could tear apart the chains that had bound him for so long.
"Good," his other self murmured, his voice low, tinged with something almost like relief.
"Be free... Kizu..."
The words hung in the air, heavy with finality, before they began to dissolve, fading like smoke in the wind. The figure of the other Kizu blurred, the edges of his form shimmering before melting completely into nothingness.
Kizu stood there for a heartbeat longer, as if waiting for something else, but the emptiness that remained in the space where the other had been felt like a void closing in on him.
***
Kizu was back, and again, facing a sinister smile.
It was Akira's grin, twisting, as he loomed over him, yet Kizu's head hung low, his body still and unmoving. There was no sign of the fire he had once carried—just silence.
Akira's finger hovered over Kizu's little finger, a blade gleaming in the dim light. The tool was so close it almost seemed to hum with the promise of pain.
"I almost cut it off," Akira said, his voice a mocking whisper. He traced the blade over Kizu's skin, the slight touch enough to send a tremor through the young man's body. "Wouldn't that hurt, Kizu? You must be desperate for it."
Still, Kizu said nothing.
Akira crouched, skeptical, he leaned in closer. "Hey, you dead? Or pretending to be one?"
Then, his grin widened.
"Let's find out."
He lowered the blade again, closer this time, grazing the skin with malicious precision.
But then, in an instant, everything changed.
Kizu's left arm jerked upward, fast—unnaturally fast—shattering the shackles that had held him. The metal snapped like brittle bone, and in a blur of motion, Kizu's hand shot out, snatching the tool from Akira's grasp.
"This isn't a show about ghouls, Jason," Kizu spat, rage filling his eyes.
Without another word, Kizu crushed the tool in his palm, the metal warping and breaking as if it were nothing more than paper.
Akira's eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his face. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to stop. The smirk faltered, replaced by confusion. But only for a moment.
Then Kizu moved.
Kizu's foot shot out with blinding speed, crashing into Akira's side with brutal force. The impact sent Akira sprawling, his body slamming into the ground with a sickening thud.
The shackles around Kizu's right foot had already shattered, but the rest of his restraints still held him in place.
Kizu paused for a split second, his chest heaving as he felt the freedom in his right leg. Then, like a storm unleashed, rage surged through him. With one violent yank, he tore the chains binding his left arm, the metal screeching as it gave way. Without hesitation, his left hand shot out, ripping the shackles from his wrist in a swift motion. They clattered to the ground, and Kizu stood fully unshackled—finally free.
The gangsters froze, their eyes widening in disbelief as they watched their boss crumple before them. For a moment, the only sound was the labored rasp of Akira's breath on the ground.
In trembling fear, their voices merged into a single, reverberating cry that shook the air, "Boss!"
Staggered, they all stared at Kizu, now standing tall and unshackled amidst the wreckage of their leader.
Kizu's eyes, once lifeless, now burned with something fierce. Despite the bruises and gashes from hours of torture, the deep cuts along his arms, the swelling on his face, and the ache of broken ribs, his body moved like lightning—wild, untrained, but relentless.
He was no longer the fragile boy they had held captive; he was something else.
But then, chaos erupted.
***
Akifumi's senses jolted like a live wire, the world around him vibrating with a pulse he couldn't ignore. There was no mistaking it—this energy was familiar, yet strange. The force surged through the air, unsettling yet undeniably linked to Kizu.
His chest tightened, a chill crawling under his skin. That energy... it was the same faint pulse he'd felt at the lake.
Kizu...
The hair on the back of his neck prickled as panic clawed at him. His instincts screamed—Kizu was in danger, and Akifumi was too far away.
Without a second thought, his feet slammed into the ground, his body moving with pure haste. Something must have happened, and he couldn't let whatever was happening to Kizu continue.
"Kizu!" Akifumi shouted, his voice cutting through the air with sharp panic.
There was no time to think, no plan—just a single goal. He pushed himself harder, ricocheting off the walls of the alley, each jump sending him higher and further. His heart raced in time with his pounding footsteps. The energy he felt guided him, urging him forward, through the maze of crooked buildings and uneven streets.
Then, he was at the cliffs. The energy crackled in the air, a raw, invisible force pulling him forward. His skin prickled, every fiber of his being screaming to move faster. The pulse was unmistakable—it was Kizu.
***
It was a moment of frenzy.
Each gangster surged forward, some hauling Akira away from Kizu, while others cracked their knuckles and hefted their weapons, a dark promise in the air.
One cried, trembling, with panic flooding his chest as he dragged Akira further from Kizu.
"Boss was right! That man... he's not... he's not human!"
"Wait... no... I didn't... I..." Those words pierced Kizu, splintering the fragile hold he had left on his resolve.
But the voices, they didn't stop.
"That's right! He's dangerous!"
"Look at what you've done to him!"
"You're a monster!"
"Of course! He's a criminal after all!"
Those spoken words slithered through the air, dripping with a harsh, incriminating edge, their feigned concern was a thin veil over the malice beneath, each syllable crafted to twist Kizu's reality, to manipulate and condemn with cold, fabricated cruelty.
But each echo cut deeper, each cry pounding against his mind. The blows felt real—felt like they were striking his very soul. Kizu's eyes darted swiftly across the place, flickering like a restless flame.
But, It didn't look like panic.
Those eyes were cold, and calculating.
He breathes in shallow gasps, his posture slightly tense, as if the weight of those words was crushing him.
"No, no, no..."
He stared at his hands, slick with blood, each drop searing into him like molten iron. The awakening, it seemed, had done nothing to silence the demons clawing at his mind.
"I... did... this...?"
But it wasn't Akira's blood. It felt like his soul itself had been bled dry, his thoughts distorted by a maddening belief that it was Akira's.
"That's right! You'll pay for this!" One grinned, a twisted mockery of a smile, his bat raised high, rage ready to explode in a swing.
In panic, Kizu gasped, his breath coming quicker, each intake more desperate than the last. It felt as though he might shatter once again.
But then...
Kizu snapped.
Before they even blinked, the bat exploded in splinters, and before the man could process it, Kizu's fist collided with his face.
"You think you know me? You think you know the truth about me?"
Kizu grabbed the man's collar.
In a flash, he bolted toward the exit, his body moving on instinct.
"Don't let him escape!" one of the gangsters shouted, panic lacing his voice.
"Block the doors! Get him!" another bellowed, their footsteps echoing as they scrambled to intercept him.
Kizu weaved through the chaos, his desperation fueling each stride. The gangsters cursed and shouted, their frustration mounting.
"Damn it! He's too fast!"
"How the hell is he getting away?!"
Before they could react, he spun around, fists glowing faintly, and with a surge of fury, he launched himself at them, striking with a force born of frustration and anger.
***
As Kizu fought inside, Akifumi arrived at the outskirts of a decrepit warehouse, tucked between crumbling buildings and rusting shipping containers. The place reeked of damp metal and stale smoke—a fitting lair for the gang. The energy pulsing from within guided him like a beacon, each step narrowing the distance to Kizu.
Three gangsters lounged near the entrance, their postures lazy but alert. One leaned against the doorframe, a cigarette dangling from his lips, while the others stood close by, murmuring amongst themselves.
"Oi, what the hell is this guy doin'?" one of them barked, spotting Akifumi as he approached. The man straightened, his hand resting on a crowbar. "You lost, kid? This ain't the kinda place you wanna be."
"Better turn around now," another sneered, cracking his knuckles. "Unless you're lookin' for a beating."
Akifumi didn't slow. His eyes were locked on the entrance, his mind on Kizu. The guards exchanged glances, then squared up, ready to teach the intruder a lesson.
Before they could act, Akifumi surged forward, a blur of motion. His first target barely had time to react before Akifumi delivered a swift, precise kick to his knee, buckling him to the ground. In one fluid motion, Akifumi's elbow struck the man's temple, knocking him out cold.
The second gangster swung the crowbar, but Akifumi dodged, slipping past the swing with ease. He grabbed the man's arm, twisting it sharply, forcing the crowbar to clatter to the ground. A quick jab to the ribs followed by a spinning kick sent the second guard crumpling to the pavement.
The third guard, eyes wide, rushed at him with a wild punch. Akifumi ducked, driving a fist into the man's stomach, then pivoted behind him, hooking an arm around his neck. With a swift squeeze, the guard slumped unconscious.
Akifumi stood over the fallen guards, his breathing steady. He brushed off his hands, glancing at the entrance now unguarded. Without hesitation, he pushed through the doors, stepping into the dimly lit interior of the warehouse.
***
Breathing heavily, Kizu stood amidst the chaos, his body aching but his determination unwavering. The gangsters hesitated now, their confidence faltering as they realized this wasn't the same beaten figure they had mocked moments ago.
But before he could breathe, the sharp crack of a gunshot sliced through the chaos.
Pain exploded in Kizu's shoulder, sending a jolt of agony through him. He hissed, his body jerking in response to the bullet's impact. The blood seeped quickly, but his adrenaline refused to let him collapse. His eyes locked onto Akira, standing just behind him, gun raised.
"You damn rat..." Akira snarled, fury radiating from him like an unstoppable wave. He took a slow step forward, his finger tightening on the trigger. "You've really pissed me off now."
Akira's voice was low, laced with a venomous promise. "You think you're free? You think this is it? You have no idea what I'm going to do to you next, Kizu."
Kizu, blood dripping from his shoulder, stood tall, unwavering. The anger and pain in his eyes spoke volumes.
"I'm not going to die here," he muttered, his voice harsh but resolute. "Not like this."
Akira's frustration twisted into something far darker, a primal rage consuming him. His eyes narrowed, a flash of madness flickering within them as his hand tightened around the gun. "You think you've won, don't you?" he spat, his voice low and thick with malice.
"This isn't over, Kizu. I will break you... piece by piece!"
He took a step closer, his grip on the weapon tightening, the barrel gleaming like a predator's tooth. "You'll beg for mercy before I'm done," he growled, the words laced with a venomous promise. His lips twisted into a sickening grin, a cruel satisfaction in the way his finger hovered over the trigger, ready to rip away whatever shred of hope Kizu clung to.
"And when it's all over, you'll know that this was never about your freedom."
***