CHAPTER 7: Cursed Eyes of Winter

  Snow fell from the sky over the cities, some illuminated and others dark. The cold wasn't just felt on the skin; it seemed to seep into every corner of the place.

  —"Cursed demon!" shouts were heard from inside a cabin.

  —"You drove my boyfriend away again! Why do you have to be so weird!?" an older woman screamed at a seven-year-old boy.

  The child, with blue eyes and blonde hair, just cried in a corner of the house.

  —"Sorry, Mommy..." the boy repeated, weeping as he approached his mother.

  —"I've had enough of your madness! Lights in the sky? You cursed brat!" the woman hissed, pushing him away. —"I wish I'd never had you!" she screamed with fury.

  That same night, a man entered the house. The boy was in his room. The man seemed to be saying something to the woman; at first she refused, but after glancing toward the boy, she nodded.

  —"Sweetie, come here, let's go for a walk," the woman said sweetly.

  The boy, happy, went with her. He started to put on a jacket, but the woman stopped him.

  —"Oh, honey, you don't need that. It's warm today," the woman spoke with a compassionate look.

  The child, blindly trusting the only person who was supposed to love him, left the jacket on the chair. The promise of "warmth" was the most ruthless lie of all.

  They walked for hours under the snow that never stopped falling. His small feet, barely covered by light shoes, began to lose sensation. The blue of his eyes contrasted with the red of his cheeks, burned by the frost, but he did not complain. He was happy because his mother was holding his hand.

  —"Mommy... I'm a little cold," the boy whispered, shivering violently as they ventured deeper into the woods.

  —"We're almost there, dear. Just a little further," she replied without looking at him, her voice having lost all the sweetness from minutes before.

  They reached a clearing surrounded by snow-laden pines. The man who had visited the house earlier was there, waiting next to a dark vehicle. The woman let go of the child's hand with a brusqueness that made him stumble.

  —"Stay here," she ordered, turning to walk toward the man. —"The gentleman will take you to a place where everyone is 'weird' like you."

  —"Mommy?" The boy tried to follow her, but his numb legs failed him, and he fell to his knees in the deep snow. —"Mommy, don't leave me! I promise not to see any more lights! I promise to be normal!"

  The woman got into the vehicle without looking back even once. The engine roared, and the red taillights were the last thing the boy saw of her before the darkness of the forest swallowed him whole.

  The little boy remained there, alone in the middle of the storm. His crying, which at first was loud and desperate, began to fade as the actual cold started to freeze his vocal cords.

  Upon seeing the lights shine again, the boy stood up with difficulty, walking toward where many yellow and purple lights gathered. They were beautiful lights, but every time his feet sank into the snow, his body heat seemed to evaporate, leaving behind a gelid void.

  He didn't know that what he was seeing were not ordinary lights. But he knew one thing: those lights had caused his mother's abandonment.

  —“Why did Mommy do this to me? Was I a bad boy?” —the doubts raced through his mind as he walked.

  Little by little, his gaze lost its spark, turning into a void. He continued like this for a few hours, but before reaching the city, he fell exhausted to the ground. His eyes looked directly at the moon, and the boy simply closed his eyes.

  —“Moon, if I could ask you for one thing, it’s a family that loves me…” —the boy thought, accepting his death.

  —"Oh, take it easy, kid. I found you. Everything will be fine now," —a voice whispered.

  —"Eh? Did I fall asleep?" —Yumi asked, looking at the ceiling of his room.

  Like a robot, he put on his pants, a thin t-shirt, and a large sweater that was much too big for him. He sat on the edge of the bed for a few seconds, rubbing his eyes. The dream always took him back to the same forest, the same snow, the same betrayal.

  He left his room and walked through the wooden corridors of the temple. The morning air was fresh, but to him, after remembering that forest, any temperature felt like an eternal summer. Upon reaching the dining hall, he stopped at the entrance.

  There was Ren, comforting Haru and motivating him not to give up. The master had a hand on the boy's shoulder, whose head remained bowed, hidden between his arms on the table.

  —"Look, Haru, fear is like rain," —Ren was saying with an unusual softness—. "Sometimes it soaks you and you feel like you'll never dry off, but rain is necessary for things to grow."

  Yumi watched from the doorframe. His blue eyes, now dull from the memory of the forest, settled on the scene. He remembered the voice that whispered to him in the snow: "I found you." It had been Ren. The same man who now, years later, was trying to prevent another child from getting lost in his own internal winter.

  —"Master," —Yumi interrupted, his voice cutting through the air like a thin layer of ice—. "Breakfast is ready. There’s no point in motivating a warrior if he has an empty stomach."

  Ren looked up and smiled from ear to ear upon seeing his blonde disciple. —"Ah, Yumi! Always so punctual with reality. Come, sit down. Haru needs to see that even those who seem made of stone eat breakfast too."

  Haru looked up slightly, meeting Yumi's eyes. For a moment, the boy swore he saw a shadow of weariness in the shield user—something he had never noticed before.

  —"Yumi..." —Haru whispered hoarsely—. "Have you never... never wanted to stop doing this?"

  Yumi sat with a straight back, ignoring the steam from the soup. The large sweater he wore seemed to envelope him, protecting him from a cold that only he remembered.

  —"Never," —he replied with indifference—. "I have no other reason to keep moving than to enter the Dream World," —he answered before starting to eat with his usual indifference.

  However, under the table, Yumi’s hand tightly gripped the fabric of his oversized sweater. His fingers sought the warmth of the garment, clinging to it as if he feared that, in any moment of carelessness, the dining hall floor would turn back into deep snow.

  —"Yumi, my big boy, you’re a true pride to me, just like everyone else," —Ren said, stroking Yumi’s hair, who began to blush.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  —"W... what will we do today, Master? What is the formation?" —Yumi asked with clear nervousness.

  —"Oh, speaking of that, there are no missions today. As you know, sometimes when we work so well, we clear the whole place of nightmares, so we have no visitors today. That means you have the day off, Yu," —Ren replied calmly.

  Yumi froze, his hand still over his soup bowl. The word "off" didn't seem to fit his vocabulary. For someone who uses the Dream World to avoid thinking about his own reality, a day of rest was, ironically, a greater challenge than facing a B-Rank nightmare.

  —"Day... off?" —Yumi repeated, trying to regain his composure and looking down to hide the blush still tinting his cheeks.

  —"That’s great!" —Haru exclaimed, lifting his head for the first time with a glimmer of relief. The idea of not having to fight today was the balm his nerves needed—. "We could... I don't know, rest?"

  —"No way!" —Mugen’s voice boomed from the hallway before he even stepped into the dining hall. —"If there are no nightmares to crush, I’ll use the rookie as a punching bag. We can’t let ourselves get rusty!"

  Mugen entered and sat down with a thud, glancing at Yumi with a mix of rivalry and suspicion. He noticed Yumi was wearing that giant sweater again.

  —"Back with that old blanket again, you show-off?" —Mugen mocked while devouring his food—. "Looks like you’re going to drown in it."

  Yumi didn't respond to the insult. He simply adjusted the sleeves of his sweater, feeling the softness of the wool. Ren observed his three disciples (Kumiho was missing, likely already meditating or reading in some corner) and sighed with satisfaction.

  —"Well then, train Haru well, Mugen! Wah-hah-hah-hah!" —Ren replied, patting Haru on the back out of habit, causing him to choke on his soup.

  —"Ma-master! Cough, cough!" —Haru tried to catch his breath while his eyes widened in panic at the predatory smile spreading across Mugen's face.

  —"Don't worry, rookie," —Mugen said, cracking his knuckles with a dry sound that echoed through the room—. "I’ll make sure that by noon you won't feel like crying anymore... mainly because you won't even have the strength left to breathe."

  Yumi, having recovered from his blush but keeping his gaze fixed on his empty bowl, stood up from the table. The mention of training didn't seem to affect him, but his blue eyes flickered toward Haru for a second. He knew that Mugen, despite his temper, was a direct combatant. He wasn't like Yumi, who let the danger do the work; Mugen faced you head-on. Perhaps that was what the boy needed to stop overthinking.

  —"I'll go meditate," —Yumi said, standing up, but Ren's hand landed on his shoulder.

  —"No meditating and no training. I said 'day off'," —Ren interrupted, eyes closed and wearing a long smile.

  Yumi stood still, his shoulder still under his master's hand. To him, meditation wasn't rest; it was the only time he could organize the chaos of his spiritual energy without anyone seeing him. Being "free" meant being exposed.

  —"But Master..." —Yumi tried to say, his voice trailing off in a way that betrayed his discomfort.

  —"Day off..." —Ren repeated, leaning his face closer to Yumi's, maintaining that immovable smile that wouldn't take "no" for an answer.

  Yumi stepped back barely a millimeter, feeling the warmth that Ren always radiated. It was the same warmth that had saved him in the snow, and against that, the shield-user had no defenses. His blue eyes dropped, accepting defeat against his master’s will.

  —"Fine..." —Yumi whispered, finally surrendering—. "I'll go for a walk."

  —"That’s the spirit!" —Ren straightened up, releasing his disciple's shoulder—. "And no carrying your shield hidden in spiritual seals. Just you, your sweater, and the city."

  Yumi nodded stiffly. As he walked toward the exit, he heard the clatter of Mugen getting up from the table behind him, likely to drag a terrified Haru to the training courtyard.

  —"Move it, rookie! If the blue-eyed show-off is going to slack off, you’re going to work for the both of you!" —Mugen shouted.

  Yumi crossed the temple threshold. As he stepped out, the afternoon sun hit his face with scorching force. At this time of year, the heat was intense, almost suffocating for anyone else, but for him, it was a strange sensation. He only felt a fraction of the heat.

  He walked down the stone steps of the temple with slow strides. In the distance, the noises of the modern city—engines, distant shouts, and music—arrived like a distorted echo.

  —"Day off..." —he repeated to himself, looking at his hands.

  —"Yumi!" —Ren shouted, catching up to him.

  —"Since you want to be useful, I need you to find a girl," —Ren said cheerfully.

  —"Eh? ... EH!?" —Yumi's voice rose in total shock—. "Are... are you looking for... a partner, Master?" —he asked, his voice trembling while his mind processed the idea of a "mother" entering the temple's equation.

  Ren let out a laugh so loud that several birds took flight from the nearby trees. He doubled over, slapping his knee before catching his breath.

  —"No, nothing like that. It's a girl who, I sense, has the eyes of an exorcist," Ren replied, returning to his normal tone, though the spark of hope in his gaze remained. —"She’s been hanging around the South District. Her name is Nao."

  Yumi felt his heart return to its usual rhythm, though the word "exorcist" made his fingers twitch inside the long sleeves of his sweater. He knew what it meant to wake up to that world without a guide: it was like walking naked through a snowstorm.

  —"Eyes of an exorcist?" Yumi repeated, regaining his seriousness. —"Is she manifesting energy, or does she just see the 'lights'?"

  —"It seems she only sees them for now," Ren explained, crossing his arms. —"But her father is worried; he says his daughter has become very aggressive over the last few years."

  Yumi frowned. Aggressiveness was usually a defense mechanism or, in the worst-case scenario, a sign that a nightmare had already anchored itself to her shadow, feeding on her rage.

  —"I understand," Yumi said, returning to his icy, professional tone. —"If she’s been exposed for so long without protection, her psyche could be fracturing. I’ll head to the South District immediately."

  —"Remember, Yu: day off," Ren warned, raising a finger. —"Don't go like a soldier. Go like someone offering help. If she’s aggressive, it's because she’s afraid. And you know better than anyone what fear does to a person."

  Yumi didn't respond. Ren’s words reminded him of his own mother's screams calling him a "demon." Perhaps Nao is also being called that by her own family because of her behavior, he thought.

  —"I’ll take this," Yumi said, taking the wooden amulet Ren offered him.

  He finally descended the temple steps. The city's heat enveloped him, but he still felt that trace of winter on the back of his neck. As he walked through the crowded streets, ignoring the stares at his sweater, he finally saw her.

  A girl with short, rebellious hair—a mass of spiky locks pointing in every direction. The top was purple, fading into a radioactive green at the tips. She had golden eyes and was biting a lollipop, revealing a row of pointed teeth like a shark's. She wore a baggy green and purple jacket, heavy black pants with side straps, and thick, solid-soled boots.

  —"Is she Nao?" Yumi wondered, stopping dead in his tracks under the scorching sun.

  He couldn't believe it. He didn't see a frightened or weak girl; he saw an explosion of chaos. Nao was leaning against a wall, chewing the lollipop stick with a force that made the plastic crunch. Her golden eyes moved frantically, scanning the clear sky and the dark corners of the alleys.

  Yumi knew that in broad daylight, the purple and yellow lights were imperceptible, but Nao behaved as if she were surrounded by invisible wasps. She swiped at the air and growled under her breath, showing her shark teeth.

  —"Why can't I see them now!?" Nao growled, snapping the lollipop with a bite.

  The girl spat out the leftover plastic and punched the graffiti-covered wall. For someone born seeing that constant buzz of colors, the absence of the lights under the sun wasn't peace; it was a terrifying disconnection. She had lived seventeen years with that vision, and the midday void only made her more paranoid.

  Yumi stood frozen a few meters away. He, too, had been born with those eyes. He knew what it was like to be called crazy from the cradle for pointing at things that "weren't there."

  —"Because the sun is too strong for them," Yumi said, breaking the silence with his monotonous voice. —"They haven't gone away. They’re just waiting for it to get dark."

  Nao tensed like a spring. She snapped her neck around and locked her golden eyes on the boy in the giant sweater. Her shark teeth showed in an instinctive growl. She scanned Yumi from top to bottom. Because of the immense sweater and his fine, porcelain-like features, Yumi looked delicate under the sun.

  —"And who do you think you are, little girl?" Nao spat, letting out a raspy laugh that sounded like a bark. —"What’s the matter? Did your parents buy you a sweater three sizes too big to hide how flat you are or what?"

  Yumi was petrified. The insult about the sweater was something he was used to because of Mugen, but the gender confusion left him speechless. A faint pink tint began to appear on his cheeks—not from shyness, but from a contained indignation.

  —"I'm a boy," Yumi replied with an icy voice, trying to regain his robotic composure. —"And I haven't come to talk about my clothes. I've come because..."

  —"I don't care what you are!" Nao interrupted, taking an aggressive step that invaded his personal space. Being taller—or at least appearing so due to her attitude—she looked down at him. —"Don't come at me with fairy tales! 'Waiting for it to get dark'? That garbage has followed me everywhere since I was born!"

  Nao reached out and tried to grab Yumi by the collar, but he, by pure instinct, slid half a step back fluidly, as if his feet didn't touch the ground.

  —"Don't you get near me with that 'poor little weird girl' look," she growled. —"If you know what those things are, talk fast before I bite your face off, 'kiddo'."

  Yumi squeezed the wooden amulet inside his pocket. Ren had said she was afraid, but what he had in front of him was a volcano about to erupt.