When I opened my eyes, I felt surprisingly well. No pain. No stiffness. In fact, I felt better than ever.
Except for one small problem—I couldn't move my arms.
I tilted my head slightly to the side. On my right, Amelie was resting her cheek on my shoulder, her breath warm against my skin. On my left, Isabelle clung to my other arm like a pillow, her hair cascading over my chest. They were both turned toward me, peacefully asleep. Their expressions were so calm, so pure, I didn't want to wake them.
So I lay beneath the tree, eyes tracing the tangle of branches overhead, attuned to the quiet rise and fall of their breath beside me. A hush lingered in the air, broken only by the soft warble of birds welcoming the morning light.
I could tell they'd wake up soon. There was a certain tension in their fingers, a flutter of lashes.
A few minutes later, they stirred.
"Morning," I said softly.
Amelie yawned and rubbed her eyes. "Morning... Did you sleep well?"
"Yeah," I replied, nodding.
Isabelle narrowed her eyes playfully. "Are you sure? You're not just saying that?"
I smiled faintly, letting my eyes meet theirs.
"I'm not lying. I mean it."
They both smiled, then sat up and stretched.
"We should get moving soon," Amelie said. "We'll change while you get ready."
"Alright," I nodded and sat up.
I unwound the bandages wrapped around my torso, expecting at least some wounds after the battle.
But what I saw surprised me. My body looked... different. The scars had vanished. My muscles were more defined, and I felt a new strength within me. I was growing stronger.
I dressed quickly, securing my katana in its sheath. As I slid the blade into place, I felt something strange.
A vibration.
It was subtle, barely noticeable—but real. My katana and sheath were humming together, almost alive, vibrating in perfect sync.
I stop, feeling the vibration run through my arm. What is it?
I didn't know what it was, so I did nothing.
Amelie and Isabelle soon returned, dressed in matching light pink dresses that shimmered faintly in the sunlight.
"Well?" Isabelle asked, doing a quick twirl. "Do we look alright?"
I blinked. "You look... beautiful."
They both smiled and we set out.
As we walked along the winding dirt path, Amelie glanced at me with curiosity and asked,
"Why did you tell us to close our eyes and cover our ears… when you left us in the carriage?"
I hesitated. The air suddenly felt heavier.
"I didn't know how you would react to what was there."
"What do you mean?" Isabelle pressed. "What exactly do you think we could have seen?"
I lowered my gaze. "It's hard to explain."
Should I tell them the truth? I didn't want them to know—to see how I did everything without emotion, as if it wasn't the first time.
"If it's too painful, you don't have to say anything," Amelie said softly. "But… we noticed something."
Isabelle nodded. "Your eyes. They look… empty. We've seen eyes like that before. In people who are desperate. People who have nothing left."
Amelie continued, "When we passed through ruined cities, we saw eyes like yours. Eyes lost in darkness."
I stared at the ground, unsure how to respond. I couldn't tell them what I did in that village. They didn't even have a chance to survive, and killing the attackers to protect them—that was something else.
"I don't know what to say," I finally admitted.
"You don't have to tell us anything," Isabelle said.
I nodded slowly.
A village appeared on the horizon, encircled by a wooden barrier of jagged, sharpened stakes.
Amelie and Isabelle said joyfully in unison, "Finally."
"Will there be more villages along the way?" I asked.
"No," Isabelle answered. "This is the only one."
My stomach twisted. I didn't know why, but something felt... off.
As we approached, we were greeted by a guard with a spear, leaning lazily against the gate.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Travelers," I replied. "Heading toward the city."
He squinted. "You don't look like ordinary travelers."
"Why's that?"
He pointed at the girls. "They're dressed too well."
I glanced at them—yeah, he wasn't wrong. I could've knocked him out without breaking a sweat. Judging by my senses, his rank was just Normal. But we needed rest. Food. And the girls were clearly exhausted.
"I'm not letting you in," the guard said.
I stepped forward, preparing to act, but Amelie was faster. She handed him a single gold coin.
He stared, wide-eyed. "Is this real?"
"Of course," Isabelle said sweetly. "So... can we pass?"
"Y-Yeah! Absolutely."
We passed through, and I turned to the girls. "What kind of coin was that?"
They looked at me, puzzled.
Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed through my skull—memories. Not mine. His.
Renji's memories. The currency: bronze, silver, gold. One gold coin = ten silver. One silver = ten bronze.
Amelie noticed the change in me, her eyes filled with concern.
"Are you alright?" she asked gently.
"Yeah," I said. "Just... remembered something."
"Let's find somewhere to eat," Isabelle said. "You can rest."
As we walked, she added, "We don't have much money."
I asked, "How much exactly?"
Amelie replied, "A few bronze coins. But it should be enough for lunch."
While we were talking, we saw him.
An old man with silver hair, leaning on a cane. His eyes were empty — just like mine.
"You're traveling?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied. But something about him made my skin crawl. A cold shiver ran down my spine.
He looked me in the eye. Then nodded. "Come. You can rest at my place."
His home was quiet. Too quiet. Empty.
"You live alone?" I asked.
"Yes. Please, have a seat. I'll prepare something."
We thanked him and sat down, but I didn't take my eyes off everything he did — every movement, every ingredient — making sure nothing like what happened to me last time with the poison would happen again.
He made roasted meat with herbs and potatoes. It smelled incredible.
I took a bite—and was stunned. "This is... amazing."
The girls puffed their cheeks in mock offense.
I laughed. "Sorry. Yours were great too."
After the meal, I asked, "How much do we owe?"
"Nothing," he replied. "It's a gift."
Suspicious. But I sensed no hostility.
"We should go," I said.
"Wait," he stopped me. "I want to speak with you. Alone."
The girls exchanged a glance, then nodded and stepped outside.
Once we were alone, just the two of us, he grew serious.
"You felt it, didn't you? When you saw me?"
"What do you mean?"
"Fear."
I nodded, my hand reaching for my katana.
"Who are you really?" I asked. "I feel danger from you. Your movements. Your presence. You're not just an old man."
He chuckled softly. "Alright. You noticed."
"I'm nobody. But I saw your eyes. I saw the despair. I'm like that too."
He told me his story—how he used to be an assassin. Ranked Advanced. He killed monsters. People, both enemies and innocents. Until he met his wife, his light. He found peace. They had a daughter.
Then the monsters killed them all.
Looking me in the eyes, his voice heavy with despair, he said,
"I sank deeper than I ever imagined."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because it's better to remain broken... than to hope, only to fall again. If you give yourself hope, and lose it, the fall is worse."
I said nothing.
"You don't have to listen to me," he said. "It's just a warning."
Then his eyes moved to my katana.
"It's vibrating, isn't it?"
"Yes... How do you know?"
"Your blade is awakening. Swords like that... bond with their wielder. They reveal their true form when fed by killing, blood... and emotions."
"What kind of emotion?"
"Any kind. As long as it erupts. Explodes."
I asked him how he knew this.
He replied that he had acquaintances who had gone through a similar situation.
I thanked him for the information and stepped out of the house.
Isabelle looked up. "Everything alright?"
"Yeah," I said. "Sorry to keep you waiting."
"It's fine," Amelie smiled. "Let's go."
And we continued on our way.
But his words stayed with me:
Hope is dangerous.
And my sword... is waking up.