The village square waited in dense silence, filled with a quiet dread that no one dared to break. Morning fog hung low, curling around homes and trees, thick enough to blur faces from a distance. Villagers huddled close, faces pale and drawn with worry, their breath visible in the chill air. Some held their children close, as if shielding them from unseen danger.
Shinji stood near Hana, their mother behind them, her hand firm on Hana's shoulder. Shinji's fingers curled into tight fists at his sides, his chest heavy and tight. He kept shifting his weight from foot to foot, unable to remain still. The anxious murmurs of the crowd only heightened his nerves.
Masato emerged from the mist, stepping slowly and carefully into the square. Behind him, Kenji appeared, limping and grim-faced, carrying one end of a stretcher. Another villager carried the opposite side. On the stretcher lay two still forms, covered by a white sheet stained with patches of red.
The crowd parted as the men entered, villagers pressing closer, straining to see but fearing the truth hidden beneath the cloth. Masato lowered his head, kneeling to carefully set the stretcher down. Silence thickened, tense and oppressive.
An elder stepped forward. "Masato, speak clearly. What happened?"
Masato lifted his head, eyes dark with exhaustion. "We found them near the old brook. Daichi and Jiro fought bravely, but… we were too late."
The crowd stirred uneasily, murmurs of shock and sorrow spreading softly. Masato paused, gathering himself before speaking further. "We tracked the creature deep into the woods. Daichi led us, sure-footed even in the dark. Jiro stayed close behind, ready with his spear. The fog grew thicker the further we went, like something meant to confuse us. But Daichi wouldn't turn back. He kept saying the beast had to be stopped or it would take more of our children."
Masato's voice cracked slightly as he continued, "At the brook, we found strange markings on the ground. Deep gouges in the mud, as if something heavy had moved there, something not quite natural. We set up an ambush, hoping to trap it. Jiro took position behind a large tree, Daichi stood by the brook's edge, holding a lantern high to draw it out."
He paused again, swallowing hard. "It happened fast. The creature attacked from the shadows. We barely saw it—a blur of movement, quick and powerful. Jiro managed to strike it, but it moved too swiftly. Daichi held his ground, shouting at us to fall back. He wanted to give us time. Jiro refused to leave him, standing shoulder to shoulder, both fighting fiercely."
Masato's eyes closed briefly, his shoulders sagging. "We tried to reach them, but it ended before we could. When we finally reached them, the beast was gone, and they… they had already fallen."
The villagers stood motionless, the weight of Masato's words pressing down upon them, sorrow and disbelief etching deep into their faces.
The murmuring of villagers filled the air, a quiet wave of disbelief and sorrow. Shinji's throat tightened sharply. He shook his head, whispering, "No, it can't be… He promised."
Shinji was in disbelieve in the words he just heard, his father wouldn't, would he?
Shinji's mother stepped forward, her voice trembling. "Masato, are you absolutely certain? Could there be some mistake?"
Masato hesitated briefly before shaking his head. "I'm so sorry. There's no mistake."
Shinji pushed forward urgently, his voice shaking. "I don't believe it! He promised me he'd return. Let me see him. Let me see him now!"
Masato exchanged glances with Kenji, who gave reluctant nods. Carefully, Masato knelt, lifting the edge of the white cloth covering the first stretcher. Villagers stepped closer, eyes widening and quickly turning away from the tragic sight. Masato revealed Daichi's peaceful, still face.
A wave of soft sobbing rippled through the crowd. Villagers bowed their heads, mourning quietly for their beloved gran-elder.
Shinji's voice shook desperately, "That's Daichi. Now show me my father! Let me see him!"
Masato moved silently to the second stretcher. Shinji's mother stepped forward with Hana at her side, their faces drawn with dread. Masato lifted the cloth, revealing Jiro's face.
Their mother gasped, knees buckling, tears flowing unchecked down her cheeks. Hana clung to her mother, sobbing openly, shoulders heaving with grief. Villagers moved closer, gently supporting the grieving family.
Shinji stood frozen, staring at his father's pale, lifeless face. He could see familiar lines etched around his father's closed eyes, lips parted as if trying to speak a final word. Shinji shook his head, his voice barely audible, "…Father….."
Masato looked at Shinji, his voice gentle but firm. "Shinji, your father died with honor. He was brave, strong, and fought until the very end. You should be proud of him."
He stumbled backward, away from the gathered crowd. No one moved to follow him, understanding his need for space and time. He walked to the edge of the square, leaning heavily against a nearby tree, trying to catch his breath.
His vision blurred, tears filling his eyes. Memories flashed through his mind, his father's laughter, their shared meals, the quiet evenings spent repairing fences and tools. His father's strong, reassuring presence had been constant, unshakable. Shinji refused to accept that his father was no more.
His chest tightened, his grief turning sharp and intense. Heat flooded through him, burning and familiar. A strange warmth began rising from deep within, radiating outward. Shinji felt dizzy, unable to control the overwhelming wave of emotions. The warmth grew stronger, pulsing through his body. His fingers trembled, his entire frame shaking under the force of an known yet familiar energy.
Confusion mixed with his grief, fear clawing at his throat as the energy surged, uncontrollable. The edges of his vision shimmered, colors blending and swirling together. Shinji's heartbeat thundered loudly in his ears, each beat a painful echo of loss and anguish.
Eventually, footsteps approached, slow and hesitant. He raised his head to see Hana standing nearby, her eyes red and swollen, face tear-streaked.
"Shinji." Hana's voice cracked when she leaned in, her tear-burned eyes raw with everything she still couldn't say.
Shinji stared at her, the warmth inside him flaring intense, spreading quickly throughout his body. His breaths came in short, shallow gasps.
"Hana," he choked out, panic rising. "Something… something's happening. I can't stop it."
Hana reached out, her eyes wide with concern. "Shinji, what's wrong?"
The warmth suddenly surged , overwhelming him. Shinji's vision flashed white, a burst of unseen energy erupting outward. He fell to his knees, gasping for breath, the world spinning around him. The grief, the pain, and the strange force became too much, blending together in a confusing, overwhelming blur.
"Hana…help…" Shinji managed to say in a weak voice, reaching toward his sister before darkness overtook him. He collapsed to the ground, unconscious, leaving Hana kneeling beside him, crying helplessly as villagers rushed to their side, shouting in alarm.