The dojo pressed in from every side.
Stone walls. No doors. No windows. A ceiling low enough that I could touch it if I reached up. The space was maybe twenty feet across - barely enough room to move.
Claustrophobic.
I turned in a slow circle, searching for the golden eyes I'd glimpsed. The silence here was different from Kiba's domain. His silence had been grief - the absence of voices that should have been there.
This silence was enforced.
Nothing moved. Nothing breathed. Even my own footsteps made no sound on the stone floor.
*Where - *
She hit me from nowhere.
A fist connected with my ribs before I registered motion. I flew sideways, crashed into the wall, and slid down in a heap.
Fast.
Not Kiba's precision speed. This was raw force - compact and devastating.
I pushed myself up, scanning the dojo.
She stood at its center now. Small. Lithe. Shadow-wrapped in a way that made her edges blur.
The Koneko-Echo.
Not the quiet girl who shared snacks and offered soft words of encouragement. This was something else. A nekomata wrapped in darkness, her cat-like features sharpened into something predatory.
Golden eyes. No expression. Perfect stillness.
I raised my hands. "Koneko, I - "
She moved.
The punch caught my jaw and spun me into the wall again. Stars exploded behind my eyes.
Harder than before.
I spat blood - or the memory of blood - and tried to stand.
"Look, I get it. You're - "
Another hit. My stomach this time. I doubled over, gasping.
Even harder.
The pattern clicked.
Every time I spoke, she hit harder.
I opened my mouth to test the theory -
Her fist drove into my solar plexus before a single syllable escaped. I collapsed, wheezing.
Not just speaking. Even trying to speak.
The Koneko-Echo circled me. Silent. Patient. Her golden eyes tracked every twitch of my body.
I forced myself upright. My ribs screamed in protest.
Think.
She represented something. Like Dohnaseek's arrogance. Like Kiba's guilt.
Repression.
The word surfaced from memories I'd absorbed. Koneko's sister. Her fear of her own power. The way she bottled everything up - every emotion, every urge, every impulse - until she was as still as stone.
She didn't speak because speaking meant feeling.
And feeling meant losing control.
I raised my fist.
If speaking makes it worse, then I fight.
She met my punch with her forearm. The impact jarred me to my shoulder.
Strong.
I threw another. A third. A fourth. She blocked each one without effort. Her expression never changed.
I tried a kick. She caught my leg and hurled me across the dojo. I hit the wall hard enough to crack memory-stone.
She takes zero damage.
Everything I threw at her - punches, kicks, attempts at the powers I'd integrated - nothing landed. Nothing hurt her.
I struggled upright. My body was a map of bruises and pain.
I can't beat her like this.
The Koneko-Echo advanced. Still silent. Still expressionless.
I drew breath to say something - anything -
Her fist drove me into the floor.
I lay there, staring at the low ceiling.
She hits harder when I make noise.
The realization deepened. Not just speaking. Any sound. Any grunt of pain. Any gasp of exertion.
She wants silence.
I remembered Koneko - the real Koneko. How she communicated in gestures and fragments. How her face rarely moved. How she held everything so tight that sometimes you forgot she was feeling anything at all.
That's not emptiness.
The thought surfaced like a bubble from deep water.
That's control.
I stood.
The Koneko-Echo watched.
I didn't speak. Didn't grunt. Didn't make a single sound as I rose to my feet.
She tilted her head. The first sign of reaction.
I settled into a stance. Fists raised. Breathing controlled.
Silence.
Not the absence of thought. Not the emptiness of giving up.
Focus.
I let everything go. The pain. The fear. The desperate urge to explain, to reason, to talk my way through like I had with Dohnaseek and Kiba.
This wasn't about words.
This was about will.
The Koneko-Echo struck first.
I saw it coming. Not because I was faster - I wasn't. But because my mind was clear. Unclouded by the noise of my own voice.
I shifted. Her fist grazed my cheek instead of crushing my jaw.
She struck again. I moved again. Not blocking - I couldn't match her strength. Just... flowing.
Stoicism isn't emptiness.
The thought crystallized.
It's a dam holding back the ocean.
I wasn't suppressing my emotions. I was containing them. Channeling them into a single point of focus.
The Koneko-Echo's attacks came faster. Harder. She sensed something changing.
I didn't try to match her force. I didn't try to overpower her.
I waited.
There.
An opening. Microscopic. Her guard shifting a fraction too slow after a missed strike.
I drove my fist forward.
Not with anger. Not with desperation.
With absolute focus.
The punch connected.
The impact echoed through the silent dojo - the first sound since the fight began.
The Koneko-Echo staggered. Just a step. Just a fraction of movement.
But it was enough.
She looked at me. For the first time, her golden eyes held something other than blankness.
Recognition.
I held my ground. Still silent. Still focused.
I'm not fighting to beat you.
The thought was clear, even unspoken.
I'm fighting to understand you.
The shadow-wrapping around her form began to crack. Light spilled through the fractures - warm and soft, like sunlight through clouds.
You don't bottle things up because you're empty.
The cracks spread.
You hold them in because you're overflowing.
Her form wavered.
And the dam doesn't make you weak.
I took a step forward.
It makes you strong enough to choose when to let go.
The shadows fell away.
Beneath them stood Koneko. The real Koneko - or the memory of her. Small. White-haired. Golden-eyed.
Still silent.
She looked up at me. Her expression was unchanged. But something in her eyes had shifted.
Understanding.
She didn't speak. Didn't nod. Didn't bow like Kiba.
She simply extended her hand.
I took it.
Soft. Her grip was gentle despite the strength I knew lived in those small fingers.
She squeezed once. Brief. Meaningful.
Then she let go.
```
No blue box. Just a feeling.
The stillness. The control. It's mine now.
But I won't use it to lock myself away.
I'll use it to hold back the ocean until I choose to let it flow.
[KONEKO ECHO: INTEGRATED]
The Koneko-Echo dissolved.
Not into light like Kiba. Not into static like Dohnaseek.
Into silence.
She faded without a sound, merging with me in a way that felt natural. Like water soaking into earth.
The dojo began to change.
The stone walls softened. Blurred. Mist crept in from somewhere - purple and warm and smelling of... ozone?
And perfume.
The ceiling lifted. The walls dissolved.
I stood in a space without boundaries. Purple fog in every direction. The floor beneath my feet felt like nothing.
The next Echo.
A laugh echoed through the mist.
Soft. Musical. Carrying that particular note of amusement that always preceded something dangerous.
"Ara ara."
The voice came from everywhere. From the mist. From behind me. From inside my own head.
"You look tense, Ryder-kun."
I turned in a slow circle.
The mist parted.
She stood there - Akeno, or the Echo of Akeno. Shrine maiden robes and fallen angel wings. A smile that was warm on the surface and sharp underneath.
Lightning crackled between her fingers.
"Let me help you... relax."
The difficulty just spiked.