"Am I dead?" Sekire murmured, her cracked lips nearly frozen.
Her eyes fluttered open slowly, but they found nothing but an endless white void. No horizon, just an icy expanse that seemed eternal. The cold sliced through her skin, but what hurt most was the invisible weight crushing her chest, smothering even her will to live.
She tried to stand, her feet sinking into something that felt like snow, though it had no texture or sound. She walked—or at least believed she was walking—in a place where the ground was crystal and the sky seemed carved from solid ice. There was no wind, only an absolute silence that amplified the screams echoing within her mind.
"The village…" she whispered, a tremor coursing through her that didn't come from the cold.
Images flooded her like an avalanche. Fire devouring homes. Faces twisted in terror. Her false father, her protector, swallowed by flames as he was beheaded. And at the center of it all, herself—eyes drenched in crimson, hands stained with blood.
"No!" she tried to scream, but her voice was devoured by the void.
"You are ice."
The voice came from nowhere, low and sharp, reverberating within her like the sound of a blade slicing through a frozen lake.
"Who… who's there?" she asked, glancing around, but all she saw was the infinite white.
"Ice is water that gave up on flowing."
Sekire felt her heart tighten. The voice sounded like hers, yet alien, as if it belonged to a version of herself long forgotten.
"When the current stops, what remains? When pain freezes even a child's heart, what's left?"
She wanted to answer, but words wouldn't come. Only silence. Then, the cracks began. The white void around her started to shatter, like a mirror breaking into pieces. Each fragment reflected something she longed to forget: her mother's sadistic smile as everything crumbled, her father's desperate gaze trying to shield her, and the shadow she herself had become.
"You are the storm and the ice, Sekire. An endless cycle. But…"
The voice hesitated, as if doubt itself could emerge in that eternal emptiness.
"What do you want to be?"
For a fleeting moment, Sekire saw something. It wasn't grand or awe-inspiring. Just a small flame, dancing against the cold. She reached for it, but her hands passed through the frigid air. The ground began to crumble, and she fell. Darkness swallowed everything.
Outside, the snow kept falling. Sekire's body lay on the ground, her fingers nearly black from the cold. Her breath was faint, but it was still there. Despite the indifference of the ice around her, she still resisted.
Sekire dragged herself through the snow like a broken shadow, her stiff, purpled fingers clawing at the frozen surface in desperation. The pain was unbearable, each movement tearing screams from her throat. Burning tears streamed from her eyes, freezing on her face as she sobbed.
"Damn it! Why is this happening to me?!" she roared, her voice echoing through the frigid vastness.
With every word, her throat burned as if torn by blades, but she kept screaming, her cries filled with rage, pain, and hatred.
"What kind of shitty life is this?! Why was I born in this fucking world?! WHAT THE HELL DOES IT MEAN TO BE ICE?"
Her fists pounded the snow with force, the impact scattering small mounds of white and exposing the frozen earth beneath. The cold seared her skin, but it only fueled her fury.
"I didn't ask for this crap! I didn't want to be like this! Why can't I just have a normal life?!"
Memories of the village in flames, the blood, the terrified expressions of the people, and her father's final scream pierced her mind like needles. Sekire sobbed uncontrollably, her teeth grinding as her arms trembled.
"Damn this rotten world! Screw all of it! I just wanted to live! I just wanted to be a kid, damn it!"
She screamed so loudly that her voice broke, turning into a hoarse whimper. Still, she kept crawling, her fingers leaving reddish streaks in the snow.
"I hate this! I hate all of it! I don't want to die, damn it! Not now! Not like this!"
Her eyes were wild, brimming with hatred and despair, but also with a stubborn flame that refused to be snuffed out.
Finally, her body gave out. Sekire collapsed face-first into the snow, unable to move. Tears flowed freely, warm against the ice surrounding her. She turned her face to the side, her chest heaving as she sobbed like a lost child.
"I just wanted… to play… to laugh… damn it… why is it so hard?" she murmured, her voice choked with tears.
The snow kept falling over her, blanketing her frail body as Sekire wept openly.
"This shitty world… this rotten world… why was I born here?!"
Her trembling fingers traced meaningless shapes on the white surface as her tears continued to fall. Even consumed by pain and despair, Sekire remained aware, feeling each snowflake land on her skin like a cold reminder that she was alive, even if she didn't know why.
"I'll live… no matter what happens, I'll live… even if this world tries to destroy me."
Her sobs echoed through the white vastness, but this time, there was something different. It wasn't just despair. It was a vow.
Sekire awoke with effort, as if emerging from a nightmare too dense to dissipate. Her eyelids parted slowly, revealing the flickering light of a campfire that blinded her for a moment. For a brief instant, she believed she was back in the frozen village, that hell of ice and despair. But the comforting warmth of the fire and the hypnotic crackle of burning wood tore her from that illusion. She tried to move her arms, then her legs, only to realize they were tightly bound. The weight of helplessness wrapped around her like a cold cloak, but it was swiftly shattered by a firm, calculated voice, sharp as the crack of a whip in the stillness.
"Finally. I thought you wouldn't wake up."
With effort, Sekire turned her face toward the voice. On the other side of the campfire, a masculine figure emerged from the shadows, as if he were an extension of the darkness itself. Tall, draped in black cloaks that seemed to devour the fire's light, he was a spectral presence. His pale face, with its austere features, contrasted with eyes that gleamed like daggers, studying her with near-surgical precision. Despite his calm demeanor, there was something in the way he held a knife, carving wood, that hinted at a latent threat.
"Where… where am I?" Sekire stammered, her voice hoarse and hesitant.
The man raised his gaze but remained silent. He finished shaping what appeared to be an arrowhead before responding, as if the object in his hands took precedence over her life.
"In a place where your luck could run out at any moment." He paused, observing her with an almost clinical interest. "Now speak. Who are you?"
Sekire's throat was dry, each word a battle against the void. Still, she mustered the little courage she had left.
"My name… is Sekire. I'm…" She hesitated. What truth could she offer? "I'm from the village to the north."
The man raised an eyebrow, but his expression remained impassive, like a mask of ice.
"The village to the north," he repeated, his tone laced with sharp curiosity. "It's empty. Everyone's dead. And yet, here you are. Alive. Bound. With the look of someone who's seen something they shouldn't."
His words pierced Sekire, dragging up memories she longed to bury. Before she could form a response, he cut her off.
"Tell me. How did you survive?"
She took a deep breath, fighting to control the panic consuming her. His calmness was worse than a blade, as cutting as the judgment hidden in his eyes.
"It was a demon…" she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "It came out of nowhere, slaughtered everyone. I… I managed to escape before it found me."
The man tilted his head slightly, like a curious predator. Then, he let out a dry, humorless laugh.
"A demon?" He shook his head, mocking. "Stories for children. Demons are just names the weak give to what they don't understand."
Sekire fell silent, her eyes lost in the fire's glow. He didn't believe her, that much was clear, but he seemed willing to let the matter die. The silence that followed was thick, heavy as the snow clouds outside.
When he spoke again, his voice was a fine blade.
"Why were you wandering in the snow?"
"I…" She searched for words, groping in the dark. "I didn't know where to go. I just wanted to escape."
The man let out a sigh, more thoughtful than impatient.
"And yet you didn't die. Strange."
He stood, and Sekire instinctively recoiled. Despite his heavy robes, his movements were agile, like a wolf gliding over ice. He grabbed a piece of meat near the fire and tossed it to her.
"Eat."
She hesitated, but her hunger outweighed her fear. She tried to eat, but her bound hands made the task nearly impossible. He watched her struggle with a gaze that blended curiosity and disdain.
"Life in the village must have been harsh." His tone was distant, but with a trace of genuine interest. "That explains your resilience. Few would survive so long in the snow."
"It was horrible," Sekire murmured, more to herself than to him. "No matter how hard you tried, it was never enough."
"And you think the world owes you something for it?" His question sliced through the air, cold as the snow outside.
Sekire raised her eyes, startled by the harshness of his words.
"I… I just wanted something better. Something that wasn't so miserable."
The man studied her for a moment before responding, his voice heavy with an almost philosophical disdain.
"The world doesn't offer 'better.' It gives what you take. Nothing more. If you think your suffering is over, you're mistaken. It's only just begun."
His words were like stones tossed into a lake, each one rippling through Sekire's mind. She closed her eyes, seeking some solace in the fire's warmth against the coldness that seemed to consume her soul.
The silence in the cave stretched longer than Sekire expected. The fire's heat still pulsed beside her, but her body was chilled by frustration, fear, and exhaustion. When Feitan finally spoke, his voice cut through the air like a sharpened blade, merciless and emotionless.
"I'll give you one last chance, child." He took a step closer, his dark eyes fixed on her. "Answer truthfully, or I'll consider you a threat to be eliminated."
Sekire swallowed hard. She knew the man before her wasn't bluffing. He was calculated, direct, and dangerous.
"I… I…" She faltered, her eyes dropping to the ground, struggling to organize her thoughts. "I'm the only survivor… of my village. A monster… it destroyed everyone…"
Feitan observed her without a hint of doubt. He didn't seem surprised by her story. After all, he'd seen similar things before. Still, he sensed there was more to it.
"A monster, huh?" His voice was cold, cutting. "So you're saying it was a monster, not some kingdom's general or any other human force, that destroyed your village?"
Sekire shrank at the question. He didn't seem to believe her, but he wasn't directly challenging her either. He was just… waiting.
"Yes… a monster. I saw its eyes, and it… it attacked me. But I… I managed to escape."
Feitan stared at her in silence for a long moment. His expression never changed. He didn't believe her, but he also didn't seem interested in arguing with a child over fantasies.
"You're a child," he said, with an almost imperceptible lightness. "And like all children, you imagine things. If you want to live, you'll need to be stronger than that."
Sekire bit her lips, trying to hide the pain his words caused. He was right, but she didn't know what else to say. She had no way to prove anything, and that made her mind even murkier.
Feitan stepped back, observing the girl with a calculated but indifferent gaze. He made a gesture as if he'd already lost interest and, without looking back, began walking toward the cave's exit.
"Go, then, little one. As I said, your life doesn't interest me. Survive, if you can." He paused for a moment, his voice almost impersonal. "But know that the world won't be kind to you. You're nothing. A peasant, alone in the ice. There's no future for people like you."
Sekire stared at him, his words echoing in her mind. The emptiness he suggested seemed impossible to fill. She felt so small. She felt purposeless. Alone.
"Please…" Her voice broke, her eyes brimming with tears. "I don't want to live like this. Take me somewhere… where I can have a chance. I just… I just want to live."
Feitan stopped again, without turning his face. His expression was clear, even unseen. It was as if he'd heard such pleas many times before. His tone didn't change, but his words cut like a dagger.
"Your life is worthless. No place will take you in. And even if they do, you'll be used. You'll become a noble's whore or a servant worth less than a sack of potatoes. There's no redemption for you, child. Not for anyone like you."
His words sent a shock through Sekire. Each one dug deeper, making her feel even more useless. It was as if he'd given voice to her greatest fear: being nothing. Having no value.
She couldn't accept that. She didn't want to. The pain of hearing such brutal truth spurred her to act. Without thinking, she stood and ran toward him, her hands clutching Feitan's cloak with all the strength she had left.
"Please, I… I beg you! Don't leave me here! Take me away from here, anywhere! I don't… I don't want to die here!"
Feitan glanced at her hands gripping his cloak. His cold gaze didn't waver, but his patience had run out. With a single, brutal shove, he pushed her away. Sekire stumbled back, collapsing onto the icy cave floor with a thud. The pain made her body tremble, but she didn't care. She wanted more. She wanted to fight.
Feitan looked at her, his eyes narrowing, and his words carried a simple but deadly threat:
"Don't touch me again. If you persist, I'll end you right here."
Sekire didn't care. She stood, her face streaked with dirt and tears. Her fists were clenched, and something within her burned with desperate determination.
"I'll fight!" she shouted, charging at Feitan with everything she had.
Feitan watched the girl approach with a disinterested gaze. She was just a child, weak and reckless. But there was something in the intensity of her expression that, for a fleeting moment, sparked a faint interest. It was more than desperation. It was an inner flame, fragile though it was.
Sekire unleashed a clumsy flurry of blows, which Feitan dodged with ease. She attacked chaotically, driven by adrenaline and rage, but he remained unshaken, blocking and evading each move with terrifying precision.
With a swift, calculated strike, Feitan hit Sekire's neck, causing her to collapse unconscious.
"You have potential. But without control… none of it matters."
He lifted her into his arms and stepped out of the cave. Her fate remained unknown.