Scene shifts to the Yin Lan Clan. Morning light softly glittered over the polished blue-tiled roofs. Some Lans were still asleep, others quietly immersed in meditation, their silhouettes serene beneath the golden rays.
Master Suiren had been awake for hours, standing near the tall window as always, his figure composed but his eyes clouded with thought. The gentle light cast a warm shimmer across his face, but it did nothing to soften the sorrow etched deep in his expression.
He was tired. And more than that—regretful.
Why did I let them go? he silently scolded himself, lips pressed into a pale line. Just because they were skilled, just because they were willing... did I forget they were still so young?
As the morning grew brighter, the sunlight stretched toward the resting forms of the two boys.
Utsushi stirred first. The light fell over his pale face, casting gentle shadows that could not conceal how colorless his lips were. His eyelids fluttered open with visible effort. Every movement sent tremors of pain through his body. His head throbbed violently, memories scattered and fragile, and he couldn't piece together what had happened in Fukaki.
He didn't want to.
Not now. Not yet.
But then, he felt something warm and heavy against his chest—arms clinging tightly around his waist. Fingers curled into the skin like they were afraid of losing him.
Turning with great effort, he found Kairo wrapped around him, still deep in sleep—or something close to it. His brows were furrowed, skin damp with cold sweat, breathing shallow. His forehead hair stuck in dark strands to his face.
Utsushi gently wiped the sweat away, his fingers trembling as they brushed Kairo's burning skin.
A fever.
Maybe it broke not long ago, he thought. Maybe it left him like this.
But then Utsushi's mind drifted back. The memory tried to claw its way forward again.
The forest. The shadow. The voice.
He flinched.
The same black, cold hand was suddenly there, pressing against his shoulder again—or so it felt. He gasped sharply, panic surging through him. Trembling, he buried his face in Kairo's hair.
"N-No... Not again... I can't..." he whispered hoarsely, his voice cracked and dry. But no answer came. Just silence.
He slowly peeked over his shoulder.
Nothing.
Was he hallucinating?
He didn't know what was real anymore. His thoughts were a storm, and somewhere in the thunder, a memory echoed:
"You kids shouldn't have come here. Fukaki doesn't always attack... but if it chooses you, then it won't let you go easily. I might not be able to save you, either."
Who was that voice? How had he spoken so casually in that cursed place? Why did Fukaki not attack him?
But before he could reach for clarity, something real happened.
Or it felt real.
Hot breath ghosted over his ear.
His eyes widened. Then—
That same black, inhuman hand slid into view, cold and gleaming in the morning light.
It reached for his chest, clawing at his heart. Another hand gripped his neck from behind, gently tilting his head upward. He could barely breathe. His mouth opened, dry and soundless, chest heaving in panic.
The voice came again—closer, crueler.
"Don't think about me too much... or I might think you want me closer to you, Ut. Su. Shi~. And who knows... maybe I'll finish what I started last night. Maybe, I'll destroy you with your morning instead. And don't forget what you promised."
"I-I won't think... I-I'll keep the promise... have mercy..." Utsushi choked out between gasps, trying to obey out of sheer terror.
But the promise? He didn't even remember what he'd promised.
His mind was fracturing. Reality thinned around him. He felt sick, spinning. Breathing turned shallow. His eyes rolled back halfway as dizziness took over.
Then—
Another hand. But this one was warm.
Alive.
"Utsushi? What's wrong with you again?"
The voice cut through the noise like a bell. Gentle, calm. It was Master Suiren.
He had come the moment he felt something was wrong. He was no fool—he had sensed it long before anyone else.
And now he was watching Utsushi tremble and Kairo cling like a lifeline, both boys lost in some unseen horror.
Suiren moved to separate them, but their embrace was iron. Magic-strong. Panic-tight.
With no other option, he summoned a talisman that formed a temporary spiritual wall between the two. Which is called ☆☆ Kairo's unconscious body pressed against the glowing surface, still seeking Utsushi's warmth even in sleep. His limbs twitched slightly, like someone trapped inside a dream.
Suiren sealed Kairo in gentle stasis with another talisman. The boy's body went limp, yet occasionally spasmed—like a patient plagued by a spiritual disease.
Then he turned to Utsushi then took him at his embrace like his own child .
Utsushi's eyes had lost their light. His lips were pale. His body convulsed slightly, mouth foaming with white. A red mark shaped like a twisted rose had bloomed along his neck, its needle-thin veins stretching toward his eyes.
Suiren's own hands trembled as he reached for him ,
" I'm losing him "
, he thought, horror sinking in like ice.
Without hesitation, he summoned a deep-layer spiritual talisman called Shen (沈 / 神) — meaning Deep or Spirit. A rare technique meant to quiet a collapsing mind.
He pressed two fingers to his own chest, just above the heart, channeling light. Then he gently placed them against Utsushi's forehead, over the blue-silver diamond embedded in his headband.
The lights merged, forming the mark of Shen.
He pressed it over Utsushi's heart. The glow sank into his chest.
Utsushi shivered under his hand, gasped like the pain was being pulled from him, then let out a quiet, broken whimper. His chest stopped jerking. His eyes slowly returned to normal, now glowing with a muted silver light.
He looked at Suiren.
"Master..."
The word barely escaped his lips before he fell still, finally slipping into a deep, talisman-induced coma.
A quiet haven. A spiritual retreat.
Suiren gently laid him down, his fingers brushing Utsushi's hair with painful care.
He stepped back and looked at the two boys—one barely breathing, the other sealed in troubled sleep.
His eyes were grave.
This is far from over.
Not for them. Not for Fukaki. Not for the dark things that were slowly crawling into the waking world.
[ End of Chapter 50 ]