✦ Ikiryo ✦
"You go first," she said, nudging me.
"No way, you go first."
"Chicken."
"Seriously? Grow up."
"Knock it off"
I sighed. "Okay... how about we each put one foot on the ramp?"
She nodded. "Alright. On three."
One.
Two.
Three—
CRACK.
A few rotted wooden planks snapped right off the frame, tumbling into the black abyss below.
"Okay, so this wasn't a good idea," I muttered."You think?"
I stared at the bridge, then gently rocked it side to side, testing the give. It creaked like bones under pressure.
Not strong enough for two.
It reminded me of a scene from one of my favorite manga—The hero ran across crumbling stairs so fast that his weight didn't destroy them.Risky.But it worked.For one person.
I started thinking more than I was breathing.
"Okay, Yumi. I have an idea."
"Spill it."
"We run. As fast as we can."
"WHAT?!"
"It's the only shot we've got."
"Running on this?" she pointed. "Ikiryo, are you crazy? Maybe there's another way! The paper—give it here, we can teleport again—"
She lunged for the parchment.
"Yumi, no! That thing burned you five minutes ago!"
"So your plan is to fall into a bottomless pit instead?!"
"No buts. Trust me"
"Huh—fine."
She said that with the enthusiasm of a dying goldfish.
Around us, the air thickened. No birds. No wind. Just that orange twilight bleeding over everything.
I looked down at the paper in my hand. Its glow was fainter now—just a low, steady burn of blue fire along the edges.Like it was watching.Waiting.
Then I glanced at Yumi. Too quiet.
"Heeey, Ikiryooo~!"
There it was."Hm?"She flashed that grin again.
"Let's do this damn thing!"
I looked back once at the pulsing paper. Its edges beat like a slow, patient heart.
Then—I grabbed her hand.And we ran.
We ran like our lives depended on it.
Because they did.
The second our feet touched the bridge—
CRACK. SNAP. CRUMBLE.
Plank after plank fell behind us. The bridge vanished under our steps.I held Yumi's hand tighter.
We didn't look back. Only forward.
Almost there.
My mom's face flashed in my mind.Hospital sheets. Tubes.Her voice, too weak to say goodbye.
Is that the last image I'll have of her?
We have to make it.We will make it.
Step.Step.Step.Feet moving in perfect sync.
Then—Something shifted.
The air changed.Wrong.Too still. Too quiet.
A sound.A breath.Then—
The entire bridge lurched.
From the pit below, something rose.Not an animal.Not a ghost.
A monster.Seventeen feet tall.Made of bone and fire.Its eyes flickered with ancient blue light.
It didn't chase us.It just rose.From beneath.
The planks beneath us shattered.The bridge buckled, wood splintering like toothpicks.
No more path.No more ground.
Just air.
I looked down—Its mouth was open.
Waiting.
Without thinking, I yanked Yumi and shoved her away.
I didn't even feel the fall.Just wind.Just silence.
Then—
Her scream.My name.
The darkness opened its jaws to swallow me whole.
And I let it.