Ereshan swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself back to sleep. The sound of rain filled his ears, steady and almost soothing... until something else broke through. A crack. A loud, splintering sound—like wood snapping under immense pressure.
Ereshan's eyes snapped open. Another crack, sharper this time, followed by a heavy, wet thud. It came from Sayuri's room. He shot up, heart pounding painfully against his ribs. "Mother?" he called out, his voice barely a whisper. No answer. Fear prickled his skin as he stumbled from his bed, bare feet hitting the cold floorboards.
He hesitated at his door for just a moment before forcing himself to move, rushing toward Sayuri's room. The door was ajar, swinging lightly on its hinges with a low groan. "Mother—?"
He pushed it open. And froze. The room reeked of iron and something fouler, something raw and wrong. Blood. It coated the floor, splattered across the walls, dripping from the shattered remains of the window. Sayuri's body lay crumpled on the tatami mat, her once vibrant form torn and mangled beyond recognition.
Pieces of her—pieces—were scattered like broken offerings, her lifeless eyes still wide in terror. Over her, crouched low and grotesque in the dim light, was a shape. A silhouette that shifted like smoke, its form wavering and twitching unnaturally.
It had long, gnarled limbs and hunched shoulders, and though the rain blurred its outline, Ereshan could see the glint of sharp fangs tearing into flesh. From within that mass of darkness, two crimson eyes flared to life, locking onto him. Ereshan stumbled back, feet slipping on the slick blood coating the floor.
The shadow moved—no, lunged—with an inhuman shriek that pierced through the storm outside. Without thinking, Ereshan turned and ran. Through the narrow hall. Down the creaking steps. Out into the storm. Rain slammed against his face like a wall of needles, soaking him instantly.
Thunder cracked overhead, and the world around him seemed to shudder under its roar. Behind him, something crashed through the house, wood splintering, glass shattering, walls crumbling as the creature followed.
Ereshan ran blindly into the woods, heart thundering louder than the storm. Tree branches whipped across his skin, slashing his cheeks and arms. Mud sucked at his feet with every desperate step, but he didn't dare stop. He could hear it—The thing was chasing him. And it was getting closer.
Lightning forked the sky, illuminating the twisted trees and the mist curling low over the ground. In that brief flash, Ereshan saw a shape, dark and massive, leaping from tree to tree, gaining on him. He pushed his body harder, lungs burning, legs screaming with pain. Branches tore at him, roots threatened to trip him, but fear was stronger than any ache. Then—A dead end.
The woods ended abruptly at a sharp cliff edge. Below, a churning river, swollen and furious from the endless rain, snarled and frothed against jagged rocks. Ereshan skidded to a halt, almost slipping over the edge. He turned, gasping, searching for another way—but there was none.
The creature burst from the shadows behind him, a black blur of malice and hunger. For a second, time seemed to stop. The beast's crimson eyes locked onto his.
Then, Ereshan moved. He threw himself off the cliff without hesitation. The freezing air ripped the breath from his lungs as he plunged downward. The river met him like a hammer, smashing the air from his chest, swallowing him whole. He sank deep into the icy black, the current grabbing him instantly, spinning and dragging him like a ragdoll.
Water filled his mouth, his nose, his ears—he couldn't tell up from down, couldn't think, couldn't breathe. He fought to reach the surface, but the river was a living thing, raging and merciless, dragging him deeper and deeper. Branches, rocks, debris struck him as he tumbled, battered and helpless.
He caught glimpses—The storm above, flickering lightning slicing the sky. The forest blurring past the riverbanks. The towering cliff vanishing into the distance. The last thing Ereshan saw before darkness swallowed him was the faint, distant glow of two red eyes staring from the cliff's edge, unblinking and patient.
The next morning, sharp smell of smoke filled his nostrils as Ereshan's consciousness returned slowly, like being dragged through a thick fog. His body felt heavy, every inch aching, bruised, and battered as if he had been crushed by the world itself. His limbs felt like they didn't belong to him, stiff and uncooperative. The cold wooden ceiling above him swayed slightly, as if the room itself were alive. He tried to lift his hand but only managed to twitch his fingers before the effort drained him entirely. The memories of the previous night—of the creature, of his mother—came crashing back, leaving him frozen in place, breathing shallowly as the weight of it all smothered him.
A strange, warm pressure curled around his chest, and his eyes slowly opened, blinking against the dim light filtering through the cracks in the wooden walls. The house felt old, simple—rough-hewn beams and wooden planks, the scent of aged wood mixing with the faint smell of incense. His eyes darted around the room, searching for anything familiar, but nothing came to him. It was quiet—too quiet—but for the occasional creak of the house and the distant patter of rain on the roof.
Ereshan took a deep, painful breath, feeling the stiffness in his ribs. His head swam for a moment, and he had to swallow back the bitter taste of panic that rose in his throat. The storm... The creature... His mother... He felt a tremor run through him, but before he could let himself break, a voice sliced through the silence. "You're awake, finally."
The voice was calm, warm—almost too soothing for the circumstances. Ereshan turned his head, wincing at the pain in his neck, and saw a man standing in the doorway. The figure was tall, dressed in a weather-worn, dark cloak, but even with the roughness of his clothes, there was something refined about him. His hair was long and dark, tied back loosely in a knot, and his face—sharp and youthful, despite the weariness in his eyes—held an easy grace. A soft stubble covered his jaw, and the clean lines of his face gave him a look of someone who had seen much, but not too much. His eyes—deep brown and steady—looked at Ereshan without judgment, only quiet observation.
"Here," the man said, stepping into the room, carrying a small bowl filled with something warm. His movements were fluid, almost practiced, and there was an air of calm confidence about him, as though he knew exactly what to do in situations like these.
Ereshan barely managed to sit up with a groan, propping himself up against a stack of pillows. His hands were trembling, but he took the bowl gratefully, lifting it to his lips. The warmth of the food helped ease the knot of anxiety in his chest, though every bite felt like a struggle, as if his body were not quite used to being whole again.
"I'm Hajime," the man continued, his tone casual, as if speaking to an old friend rather than a complete stranger. "And you've had a hell of a night, it seems." He gave a small smile, though it was thin, as though forced by the gravity of the situation. "I'm just glad you didn't drown, or—well, something worse."
Ereshan stared at him for a long moment, his mind struggling to piece everything together. The night. The beast. His mother. It all felt like a nightmare that clung to his skin, refusing to let go. "What happened...?" His voice was rough, strained, and barely above a whisper.
"You were caught in the river, nearly drowned," Hajime replied, sitting down on a nearby stool, watching Ereshan closely. "I pulled you out just in time. But you've been unconscious for most of the night. You're lucky, boy. Many wouldn't have survived that kind of fall."
Ereshan's mind spun, still trying to grasp at the edges of reality. "My mother... I couldn't... I tried to save her, but..." His voice cracked, and he gritted his teeth to stop the pain from swallowing him whole.
Hajime's expression softened, though his eyes remained unwavering. "I'm sorry. But it's over now, and you're safe. At least, for the moment."
Ereshan felt the weight of those words crash down on him. Safe? How could he be safe after what he had seen? After what he had lost? His thoughts reeled, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Who are you?" Ereshan asked, trying to push the questions about his mother to the back of his mind for now. "Why did you help me?"
Hajime's lips curled into a half-smile, his eyes glinting with something almost mischievous. "Ah, that's the right question, isn't it?" He leaned back, the stool creaking beneath him. "I'm a ronin. A wanderer. I go where I'm needed, or... where I feel like going. And as for helping you, well, I suppose it's just my nature to lend a hand when things get... interesting. Can't very well leave someone to die in a storm, can I?"
Ereshan blinked, still trying to make sense of it all. "A ronin?" he repeated, his mind not quite processing the unfamiliar term. "But why me? Why would you—"
"A lot of people would've let you drown," Hajime interrupted, the faintest trace of something dark crossing his features before he wiped it away. "But I saw something in you. Something that made me think you weren't just some ordinary boy, waiting to rot in this backwater village." He looked Ereshan up and down, sizing him up. "You've got something about you. Something... untold. And I think you'll need help."
Ereshan stared at him, more confused than ever. "What do you mean?"
Hajime sighed, standing up. "All in good time. For now, get some rest. You're not out of the woods yet, and you'll need your strength." He turned toward the door, his figure silhouetted against the gloomy daylight that seeped through the cracks in the walls.