Yamikuro's body was still. Urashin knelt beside him in silence, the daggers still in his hands. The fight had ended in chaos, not with a victory but with Yamikuro collapsing into himself.
His chest rose unevenly, each breath shallow and broken. The veins of purple light beneath his skin pulsed like embers refusing to die, and for a moment, Urashin wondered if Yamikuro was even still there.
"Damn it," Urashin muttered under his breath. He pressed his hand harder against Yamikuro's shoulder, but the boy did not stir.
Inside, Yamikuro drifted further away.
He could no longer feel the pit beneath him. The sound of the night faded, leaving only the echoes of his own thoughts.
"I thought I did well…" The words spun weakly in his mind.
"I learned Seikodo. I learned Naiko. I gave everything I had. So why… why am I staring into nothingness?"
Lucian's face lingered in his thoughts, always there. Urashin's voice followed, calm but merciless, telling him he was weak, useless, incapable.
Each word had cut deeper than any dagger, especially his own, saying it was his fault that Kazuhiko died.
"Where did things go so wrong...?"
The memory of his grin returned. The Darkness erupted through his body, taking everything he had earned. He had lost control, he had nearly killed Urashin, and all of it proved only one thing: he was not strong enough.
"Why me? Why was I chosen for this role?"
His chest tightened. The ache turned into fire, then into suffocation. He tried to draw in air, but the breath caught in his throat. He choked. His body convulsed. And then water filled his lungs.
When his eyes shot open, he was not on the ground. He was in the ocean.
The water stretched endlessly in every direction, pressing against his body with crushing weight. He kicked, arms thrashing, searching for the surface, but there was none. The water climbed infinitely above, with no light to guide him.
His chest screamed for air. He swam harder, but every movement slowed. The more he struggled, the heavier he felt.
'Where am I?'
The thought nearly broke apart in his head. He was too tired, too drained to care.
As he struggled to breathe, get out of the water, and figure out where he was, a familiar voice he hadn't heard in quite some time called out for him.
"Asaki..."
'Who was that?' Yamikuro tried looking around.
But that's when he saw him.
Honor. White hair flowing without end, robes still and untouched by the water, eyes calm, fixed on him as though this depth was no burden at all.
Yamikuro couldn't respond; he held his throat, as he had been suffocating for far too long.
"You are drowning in your own despair," Honor said. His voice cut through the water, untouched by it.
"Open your eyes and see the truth, you are sinking deeper. Does the pressure not hurt?"
Yamikuro's hands clawed at his throat. His chest burned. The water stole every sound, yet the words still came.
"That this is your heart, Asaki."
The ocean froze. The bubbles stopped rising. Yamikuro hung in place, weightless but trembling.
'My heart...?'
Last time Yamikuro visited, what Honor called his heart, it was an empty void. And the Darkness was here, but why had Honor replaced it?
Memories of Urashin's golden pillars flashed across his vision. The sound of them shattering. The sight of himself grinning, of his own hand piercing his chest. None of it felt real, yet all of it was.
He turned toward Honor, fear and confusion tearing through him. The water that had once shut down on him faded into the background in his own mind, allowing him to express his thoughts aloud.
All of the anger, the losses, failures, betrayal, weakness-everything had built up within him. And now he was ready to let all of it out.
"Why are you helping me, Honor?! Just what in the world are you?!"
Honor went quiet, but his eyes did not shift.
"I'm... your guide."
"Shut up!" Yamikuro thrashed in the water, bubbles spilling from his mouth.
"My guide...? Stop making this more confusing! Just tell me outright, what is your end goal with me? Will you betray me just like Elara did?!"
"Your heart is consumed by anger and guilt, emotions that make you say words before coming up with them in your head."
"I don't want your riddles, Honor! I don't want your guidance or your calm words! Just tell me what the hell you want from me!"
"You are the Darkness wielder, and I'm here to make sure you'll-"
"Then tell me, what is the Darkness?! Why am I the Darkness wielder?!"
"Yamikuro." Honor's deep blue eyes, reflecting the color of the ocean around them, pierced through Yamikuro.
"I want you to think to yourself for a second, why do you think I had you form the pact the first time we met?"
Yamikuro couldn't give an answer.
"It was to make sure you wouldn't give in to the hatred and fuel the Darkness, also known as hatred."
The water stilled. Honor's voice came, sharp but quiet.
"This anger you hold is not weakness. It is part of becoming yourself."
"Becoming myself?!" Yamikuro shouted, his voice cracking into something raw and unrestrained. "What kind of answer is that? Tell me what you mean! Tell me why I should trust you, when all you've ever done is drown me in this place and whisper things I can't understand!"
The weight of his voice shook the water again. The ripples deepened into cracks, and water swallowed Yamikuro deeper. The liquid was cold, colder than ice, and he sank with terrifying speed.
Yamikuro tried to swim upwards, but the water dragged him with unimaginable weight. His chest tightened, his breath quickening.
"Do you see?" Honor's voice carried no mockery, only quiet finality. "Your despair has weight. You sink because you let it bind you. If you remain as you are, you will never stand. You will never rise. And you will never face Lucian."
"Then give me something!" Yamikuro's voice broke, choked with both fury and desperation. "If you want me to become myself, if you want me to rise, then stop standing there and give me something I can use!"
Honor reached out his hand, without a word, staring at the sinking Yamikuro, whom he followed as if he floated downwards.
"Take my hand, and you will wield the Darkness without being consumed. Refuse, and you will carve your path alone, weaker, slower, more painful."
Yamikuro froze. Honor had just presented him with two options, both of which terrified him.
He didn't want to rely on the Darkness, yet Honor gave him the option to use it without being consumed. It sounded too good to be true; however, if that were the case, he should've taken it.
But why did he hesitate? Why did Yamikuro stutter at the thought of these options?
He wanted to use his own power, to prove he was more than the Darkness. He wanted to save people on his own means.
Yamikuro's hand that had reached halfway to Honor shivered, not from the coldness of the ocean, but from fear.
Yamikuro pulled back his hand, despite sinking deeper with each second.
"I'll carve my own path."
Honor did not seem pleased by Yamikuro's words, still holding out his hand.
"Then who are you, if not me, or the Darkness?"
"I am myself," Yamikuro responded, not completely sure what Honor meant by those words.
"I see..." Honor said.
A second later, his lips curved upwards, taking back his hand. Was that the answer Honor had wanted?
"Then swim upwards yourself."
Yamikuro regained movement in his body and began swimming, not looking at Honor or at the dark bottom of the ocean.
He swam faster than he had expected, better than he could've before.
It didn't take long for Yamikuro to almost reach out of the water, the sun shining brightly on his face, warming up his cold body.
"I'm sure we'll meet again, Asaki." Honor's voice echoed in his ears.
When Yamikuro's hand shot out of the ocean, his mind shifted, and everything went dark for a second. But when he returned, he was back at the pit, next to Urashin, his hand reached out.
"Yamikuro?" Urashin asked, trying to confirm if Yamikuro had woken up.
"I'm back..." Yamikuro muttered, a tear dropping from his left eye.
Yamikuro wiped his eye and stood up. The aura around him had completely shifted, and Urashin could feel it.
"How about we finish that duel?" Yamikuro asked, feeling the power within him growing.