Itsuki walked down the street leading to his house.
His mind felt hollow, his body numb. Each step dragged heavier than the last as he moved slower than his usual pace.
The same thought echoed endlessly in his head—
"Can I really do nothing? Is she really going to die?'
When he finally reached the front door, he pulled out his keys, only to realize the lock was already turned open.
At that moment, his heart skipped a beat.
His mother was inside—just beyond that door.
A flood of thoughts stormed through his head.
He could run. Wait until she left again. Maybe spend the night at school, crash in the library, then text her that he was at Seiji's house working on a project.
"Anything—anything but face her right now.'
Because if he did, he didn't trust himself not to fall apart.
He couldn't hug her. Couldn't hold her hands. Couldn't even bring himself to look into her eyes.
He stood there, contemplating his options at the front of the door as his fingers hovered over the handle when a familiar, gentle voice came from behind him.
"Itsuki?"
"Crap.'
He froze. That was his mother's voice. But how—? She was supposed to be inside the house.
"She must've just stepped out,' he thought, panicking inside. "Probably left the door unlocked to run an errand…'
"Itsuki," she called again, her tone light as a feather, full of warmth. "Is something wrong, sweetie?"
That voice. It was both his greatest weakness and his only strength.
He couldn't take it.
"Why does it have to be like this? Why does she have to go?'
He didn't even realize when tears began to fall down his face. His head hung low, droplets hitting the concrete.
His mother noticed, and her footsteps drew closer—
but before she could touch him, he turned abruptly, stopping her.
"It's alright. I'm fine… I'm just really tired."
She stood there, looking at him—her son, with tears burning in his eyes.
She had never seen him like this.
"Itsuki, if something's wrong, you can always tell me," she said softly. "I'm your mother. I'm always here for you."
He stayed silent. Tears still dripping slowly down his face, but his voice came out cold, distant—forced.
"I'm fine."
The tone was enough to stop her. She hesitated, then fell quiet.
Itsuki opened the door and walked inside without another word, leaving her standing confused on the curb.
He wiped his eyes as he climbed the stairs, step by step, until he reached his room.
He shut the door, locked it and instantly collapsed to his knees.
Hands pressed to the ground, forehead lowered, tears streamed freely again, heavier this time, carrying the weight of everything he was holding in.
His voice trembled as he whispered into the stillness of the room,
"Help me. Please… whatever power showed me this—please help me save her. She's all I have. If I lose her, then I lose myself too."
His voice cracked. "If you're as powerful as Amane said you are… then please, help me. Save her."
****
When Itsuki opened his eyes, there was nothing but darkness.
He blinked, touching his face and arms to confirm he was still there.
No light. No sound. No wind. Only an infinite void stretching endlessly in all directions.
He blinked a few times, then suddenly, he could see—as if a spotlight had been cast on him alone. The darkness encompassing the void remained, but now he stood at its center.
And ahead of him, he saw a throne of bones.
He took a step, and in an instant, he was standing before it.
The structure was massive—crafted from ribcages and vertebrae intertwined into an almost divine pattern, but enough for a human to sit. Shadows seeped from its base, curling across the ground like fog, feeding the void around it.
Suddenly, a faint ringing filled his ears—sharp, high, brief. And at that moment, it was as though he gained consciousness.
"I'm here again…" he muttered, staring down at his hands. "And I can move freely this time."
He turned, scanning his surroundings—not because the dream forced him to like it used to before, but because he wanted to.
Then, he saw it: a tree with blood-red leaves, standing beside a stone etched with ancient symbols he couldn't read.
From the top of the stone, the hilt of a sword poked out—waiting.
"The man who was sharpening the blade… where is he?' he wondered as his eyes tried to pierce through the void searching for answers.
He stepped forward, one step, unlike before and he was suddenly at the tree's base.
Just like before, blood trickled from the stone, feeding the roots of the tree like water.
He reached for the sword, admiring the detail of the hilt, his eyes darting through the writting on the stone as well. He moved closer, gripped the hilt tightly, and pulled, but nothing happened. He took a deep breath and tried again yet, still nothing.
Then— "Itsuki…"
A deep, echoing voice rippled behind him.
He turned instantly, releasing the sword from his grip.
It was the man—clothed in rags, skin pale and ancient, eyes hollow as death.
"Who are you?" Itsuki asked, stepping back.
The man raised his gaze.
"Bearer of the Eye of the Harbinger," he said, his voice cutting through the air like a whisper from the grave.
"You have been given the greatest gift… and burdened with the greatest curse."
Before Itsuki could react, the man appeared directly in front of him.
Itsuki fell backward, startled.
The man's next words echoed all around, reaching into his mind—
"You are loved… yet you are damned to be lost."
Itsuki shot upright in bed, gasping for air. His chest rising and falling rapidly.
It had been only a day since he told Amane about his mother, a day since he had to face her—
a day since the one person he thought could help him save her said there was no hope.
And now, another dream. He glanced at the clock besides him as read the time in his head.
5:24 AM.
"…Fuck."