1222-09-01
Shin Utsuho:
Many dream of power, the unity of becoming a better person, but as I dream, my soul grows stronger. My dreams have slowly changed.
Every night, I speak with it—my spirit. I ask others if they've ever talked to their soul, if they've connected with it. No one seems to have, it's an ability unique to me.
A power unlike any other.
Each soul is different, they say. But I would be naive to think mine is special.
Then, in front of me, a shadow began to form. A figure—my own silhouette. It flickered, shifting, its features constantly changing.
"Welcome back," it said. "Are you ready?"
"Ready for what?" I asked.
"In two years…" it spoke."Riku will die"
"Is this what you've been training me for?" I asked.
"An event will come, but there are things you still don't understand."
"I understand," I responded. "It's not about strength. It's about something deeper—something that doesn't rely on others. I've been chasing validation, but now… it's something I have to create. Something inside me."
"You've always known this, Utsuho," it said. "You've always known you could stand alone."
"The question was never about trusting them," I said, "it was about trusting myself. Trusting my spirit."
It nodded, floating in this ethereal void. The structure around us began to take shape—becoming a replica of the prison, the orphanage.
"What happened after your Edict?" I asked as it drew a small katana.
"The cost of spirit," it spoke, "is something you need to find out for yourself."
"Why do you know so much more than I do?" I asked, frustration rising as a blade appeared in my hand.
"I didn't ask for this power," it said. "It's better to not know the future. What do you want from me?"
"I want nothing from you, Utsuho. But you will never escape this unless you embrace it. You are your own strength. You are the force that shapes the world around you. In the coming war, you will need to pick a side: the old ways, a world ruled by man, or a world ruled in unity. Your actions will determine the fates of millions."
"WHAT WILL YOU DO?" it yelled.
"I'll fight," I yelled back. "I have the strength to shape my own fate."
Good, it smiled. "You're ready for a single fact."
"Sana is alive~~~"
Knock.
"Wake up," a stern voice calls from behind the door.
I get out of bed. I make sure to straighten the blankets.
When I open the door, I find all the others standing outside their rooms. They're lined up in neat rows, two by two, each pair clearly sharing a room. They're saluting, their hands raised in uniform gestures.
I salute the air in front of me.
He's inspecting the rooms, moving methodically from door to door.
The sound grows closer, each step heightening the tension. Finally, he reaches the room across from mine. The boy and girl from earlier step aside as he enters their room. I hear him checking the beds, likely for neatness, and then the scratching of a pen on paper as he writes in a small notepad.
He moves to my room next.
"Order!" he barks.
We lowered our salutes and fell into step behind him.
We followed him to the backyard.
He stood doing his usual notes. I looked over at Riku. Since I couldn't remember what happened after I activated my Edict, I wanted to ask her. I hadn't gotten the chance to—did I hurt her? I hoped not.
She meant more to me than she knew.
When our eyes met, she quickly looked away. I couldn't tell if it was shame or something else, some other emotion.
It was so bad—I didn't even remember who won the fight, who won the game. I assumed it was either Riku or Keenan. The events after the Edict were a blur, like a grey fog covered them. I knew something had happened, or at least I assumed it did. But I doubted they'd be the same when I used that power.
I remembered the chant, the activation.
A fourth-stage ability. An ability only the Rola Golden could use. Or was that a lie?
I looked back at Riku. She's strong—stronger than any of us. I didn't think she'd be scared of me.
The cost of spirit, the cost of soul. I wondered what it really meant.
Keenan had a slight smirk on his face, though he hid it from T as he glanced at us.
T commanded us to sit at the desks, an abnormality in itself. He left the room, and everyone began to talk.
In the chatter. One person, a tall and lean figure, stood up from the back corner.
Keenan replied, glancing around. "Anyone else feel that weight on their chest?"
"I know, right? Like... there's this tension," Riku said.
"I'm just happy we'll .." Sora began.
I stand there, waiting as T walks back in, his footsteps echoing in the quiet room. He gestures toward the door. A new face appears. She looks older than me.
She has long, dark hair that falls loosely around her shoulders. Her eyes, a deep shade of red. Her features are sharp, yet there's a softness in her expression. Making her look both older and wiser than the rest of us.
"Everyone, meet Kaida," T says, a hand outstretched to her.
The others don't look at her. They just go back to what they were doing. Some leave the room.
I noticed Riku glare at me. I can see the sadness creeping into her eyes. She hides it well. I remember how I felt when I was first brought here. Every glance felt like a wall.
Kaida sits by herself, her back stiff. I can almost feel the weight of the loneliness pressing down on her, and I think about my own first days.
T leaves the room, and the others start to talk again, the buzz of their conversations filling the silence that Kaida left behind.
Kaida stands up and walks outside. It's like she's going to cry.
I look over at Keenan. He stands in the corner, arms folded.
"Why don't we talk to the new people?"
Keenan gives me a half-smile. "You'll understand soon enough. We only get a day off when new people come in. No time to waste talking."
I feel asleep. When i woke up I looked out the window.
Kaida sat by herself, the space around her left untouched. Ren and Sora were lost in their conversation. Riku was practicing with Keenan.
There was a small smile on her face. I couldn't tell if it was forced or genuine. I wondered how much this place would change her. It had changed all of us in ways we couldn't take back.
I walked toward her. I hesitated just a moment before sitting down beside her. She looked up and for a second, I saw a flash of uncertainty in her eyes.
"My name's Utsuho."
Her gaze softened as she nodded. "Kaida," she replied, her voice low but steady. "You can call me Kai, though."
"Kai," I repeated, testing the name. It felt different, like a bridge to something new.
"That's a sad name," she said after a pause.
I blinked, caught off guard, but nodded.
She smiled a little. There's something else sitting in silence between us. It is a small thing. It made the weight of the room feel lighter.
Kaida felt serene, almost like a princess. She moved with grace, from the way she talked to the way she looked at things. There was a power in her. I wondered what her life was like before this. Who her family was. If she knew Sana.
But deep down, I knew she wouldn't answer even if I asked.
The others sat around, talking, laughing, resting. Enjoying the little peace they had.
Sleep... these days, I've been sleeping better than I have in a long time.
"Why don't they talk to me?" she asked.
She was afraid of hearing the answer.
I took a deep breath. "This place isn't an orphanage. It's a training facility. The rest of us, we don't have time for anything else. We're all just here to survive. And that means pain. It means suffering."
I wasn't sure why I said it like that—monotone, detached. But I had said it, and now it was out there.
I didn't even think twice before pulling my Spirit to the surface. A small cloak that made me intangible. The soft glow that surrounded me didn't seem to startle her.
She blinked. "That's... cool," she whispered.
We just sat there, saying nothing. The sun came through the trees outside. It felt warm. Not cold like everything else here. I leaned back and let myself enjoy it.
Then she stood up and held out her hand. "Will you dance with me?" she asked, a little shy.
I paused, then got up and took her hand.
"Alright," I said.
We moved together in the soft light. No one else seemed to notice. It was just me and her, dancing like there was no war, no training, no pain. Only the sun on our faces.
I felt happy.