"I died... died several times," he murmured. "And respawned in a world. A world with magic power…"
His tone wasn't angry. It wasn't even afraid. It was hollow, like something had caved in long ago and left only the echoes behind.
A voice, crisp as wind cutting through bone, spoke from nowhere—not loud, but enough to make his blood still.
"Yuuri."
He flinched.
"I hope you are tired of living," the voice continued. "I sent you to this place. It's very beautiful outside... but a rose has thorns on its stem."
His throat went dry.
He whispered, "Who are you?"
The place became deathly silent.
Suddenly, he heard a sound—
Knock knock.
Yuuri started toward the door. He opened it.
"Come to Jukile Street at 3 PM. A parade will begin at that hour," the soldier said. His voice was too calm.
*His eyes... they were very dark. They scare me more than anything,* he thought, and left the place
Yuuricouldn't even stand. He fell into bed.
"Where am I? I want to die," he murmured.
The next morning, he woke. He dragged himself out of bed.
Outside, the place was very beautiful. It had many houses, trees, and it looked like heaven.
He moved to Jukile Street. The crowd started to shout and dance, and the sound of drumbeats echoed like a heartbeat. He moved with the crowdbut didn't quite blend into it.
*What is all this? What are they so eager to see?*he wondered.
A girl had fallen right beside him. Her palms scraped against the rough stone. People barely noticed. He looked down at her, his expression unreadable, eyes as dark and still as deep water.
But he didn't move.
She stood up on her own.
She found her friend nearby.
"I saw a psycho," she said, her words fast and angry. "His eyes… they were so dark. He just stood there like some freak. Didn't even help me."
The crowd started to move. He went along with it. Suddenly, everyone started to shout in excitement.
"King! King!"
People surged forward in a frenzy—pushing, stumbling over each other in desperation to catch a glimpse.
He tried to hold his balance, but a hard push from behind knocked him off his feet.
Then a hand appeared—reaching down through the chaos.
"Come on," a voice said.
He stood up and had a glimpse at the place where people were watching . He saw a man—his face glowed unnaturally bright, almost too perfect. Like light had been carved into the shape of a man.
"Who is that man coming on the horse?" he asked, his voice barely carrying above the roar. "Why are the people shouting like that?"
But the boy didn't answer. His eyes flicked toward the street behind them. Something shifted in his expression—maybe even fear. Then he grabbed Yuuri by the wrist.
The boy didn't let go, dragging him away from the growing madness. His friends followed him.
"Who are you?" the boy asked.
"My name is Yuuri," he said calmly. "And I didn't... I wasn't born in this—"
Suddenly his voice broke.
His hand flew to his chest. His heart felt like it was twisting, squeezing tighter every second. He gasped, stumbled, and dropped to his knees.
His vision started to blur, and he collapsed.
When his eyes fluttered open, there was a face above him. Close. Watching.
A girl.
His heart skipped.
It was her—the same girl who had fallen near him earlier.
Again, he started to introduce himself. "My name is Yuuri."
"My name is Haru Hichiro. Nice to meet you," he said, and his voice had a charm of its own.
"Ah... My name is Hikari Mei," she said, and she didn't even want to talk to him.
"Why did you guys bring me here?" Yuuri asked.
"Everyone who lives here knows about the king. If someone hears you asking like that, they'll beat you until you wish you were dead,"
he replied.
"Haru, come with me. Aiko is alone," Hikari said. She clearly didn't want to be near Yuuri.
Haru brought Yuuri with him.
*I can't tell whether they're good or bad,* he thought.
"Who is this boy?" Aiko asked.
"He's our new friend. His name is Yuuri," Haru replied.
They asked Yuuri about his last name. He said that he didn't have one.
Suddenly, the crowd fell silent. One moment, there were cheers, shouts, voices layered over voices—and then... nothing.
He turned in a slow circle. His eyes scanned the crowd. Faces once alive with excitement were now pale, stiff. No one spoke. No one moved.
He turned to look at the others.
Aiko and Hikari stood close together. Their hands trembled slightly. Both had shut their eyes tightly.
Yuuri's gaze shifted to Haru.
Haru wasn't looking away. He was staring straight ahead—at the stage that had risen just beyond the center of the square. His face was still, but his eyes…
His eyes burned.
Not with fear.
Not with shock.
But with hate.
He started to wonder—
*What's going on...?*
The voice returned.
Soft at first, no louder than a breath in his ear, but it moved straight through his spine like a blade dragged gently across bone.
"Yuuri… everything is going to start from this moment."
He stiffened, his heart stuttering like it had forgotten how to breathe.
A soldier in silver armor stepped onto the raised platform at the heart of Jukile Street.
He raised his hand, and then he shouted, his voice cutting through the air with unnatural force:
"Here it is!"
The crowd, once hushed as if under a spell, erupted like a dam breaking.
"I want to see!"
"I want to see!"
"Let us see it!"
Their voices climbed over one another, frantic and wild, rising into a frenzied chant. Some stood on tiptoes. Others pushed forward, shoving past those in front with eyes wide in hunger—or fear.
But beneath the chorus of desire, Yuuri caught something else.
Soft.
Shaky.
From within the crowd...
"I don't want to see…"
"Please… I don't want to see…"
He turned his head sharply, trying to locate the voice, but the mass of people shifted like a living ocean.
Yuuri's skin crawled. He looked at Haru, and in his eyes—he couldn't even tell what he was seeing.
*His eyes... his eyes. There's a difference between the one who grabbed my hand and the one standing near me. Yes, they're the same person—but this...*
*I am scared. Very scared.*
And then she fell.
A girl, no older than Yuuri, crashed onto the stage with the dead weight of someone dragged too far for too long. Chains clattered violently around her—thick iron wrapped around both wrists, cutting into her pale skin, and shackles clamped tightly around her ankles.
She didn't scream.
Her face looked very tired.
She was hanging like a broken doll in front of everyone.
Every eye was on her.
He looked at them—still, Hikari and the other girl hadn't even opened their eyes. They were shaking in fear.
He looked at Haru.
He felt something strange—he couldn't even tell what kind of emotion it was.
It looked like hate. Anger. Rage...
He looked like a monster.
His eyes were locked on the stage. That girl slightly looked up and started to scream.
The crowd started to cheer.
He couldn't understand what was going on there, but he knew one thing clearly.
"It wasn't a parade."