"His voice—"
"Before me—?"
"I am truly curious of thee, boy," he says, his tone calm yet weight heavy. "What possessed thy mind that thou wouldst touch the crystal?"
I stay still. My breath trembles. No words come.
—KRAAKK.
The crack of wood breaks the silence. From behind the trees, it echoes.
—SPLAAASHH!
His blade cleaves the trunk clean through — as though felling trees were but child's play.
—GRRRR.
That sound… the same cat from before?
"Boy!"
His voice thunders. I flinch, my eyes lift but falter.
—CLACK.
He sheathes his sword. The belt's edge grazes my brow, forcing my head upward until my gaze meets his.
"Speak. Didst thou truly touch it, boy?"
"Aye…" I whisper.
"HUH?!"
"I touched it."
The words scrape from my throat, rough and raw. Silence follows — sharp enough to cut air.
—THWACK!
The belt strikes. Pain bursts through my temple; the world tilts and spins.
Another blow — Thwack! Thwack! — echoes in my skull. Everything swirls, cruel and dim.
He steps closer, shadow swallowing him whole.
"All for naught," he mutters. "Even if I take the crystal, my journey is wasted. Yet thy life seemeth the greater waste, boy."
A laugh — hollow, cracked — escapes me. "Hmph… hmhm… hmhmhm…" Tears fall. One, then another.
He speaks no lie. My life is hollow.
Mother's warmth died when I was five. Father followed soon after.
My head lifts slowly. Lips shake. Voice weak — but steady.
"Then kill me."
"As thou wishest."
—THWACK!
The belt lashes again. Blood trails down my cheek. My body trembles — yet I stand.
"Not enough," I breathe. "It shall not be that easy to slay me. Do it — without mercy."
The man hesitates. His sword slips loose, the tip sinking into the earth.
"I shall not believe what one such as thee will grow to be," he murmurs.
"What dost thou mean? I asked thee to kill me — not to spare me."
"Indeed," he answers, voice cold as ash. "As thou hast requested."
He raises the blade again.
"Before thou doest it," I whisper, "tell me thy name. I would remember the one who ends me."
He lowers his head slightly. "Hiro… Hiroshiki. I shall be there soon, Father… Mother… wait for me."
The blade tilts my chin upward—
—SPLAASHHH.
Darkness rushes in as pain tears through my chest. The world fades.
He kneels beside me, hand brushing my hair. "My name is Jiza, lad. Remember that."
Then he stands, belt loosening from his sword.
Silent. Still. As though time itself waits with him.
What stays his hand? Why does he not walk away? What holds him now?