Chapter 4: The Boy Who Felt Nothing

Aria knew pain intimately. Not the kind that came from broken bones or jagged knives — those were trivial, transient. No, she understood pain as a currency. She harvested it, refined it, and consumed it. With every scream in the Black Cage, her strength grew.

Five years ago, when she was twelve, a voice not of this world whispered into her mind. It said almost nothing, but it didn’t need to. That was the moment her curse began. Since then, Aria had been plagued by a pain that mirrored what she inflicted. If her hands stayed clean for too long, the agony clawed up from within her, gnawing at her bones, pressing in behind her eyes. It was unbearable. The only way to dull it was to hurt others — deeply. From that pain, mana bloomed.

She called the voice that cursed her the Entity. And she would destroy it. Even if she didn’t fully understand why — the need was carved into her soul like scripture on stone.

Aria sat at her desk in the back of the classroom, eyes cold and distant. The classroom buzzed with meaningless chatter. A new student was being introduced at the front. She barely registered the teacher’s words until he said his name.

The boy didn’t belong.

That was Aria’s first impression of Ren Yukimura as he stood awkwardly at the front of the classroom. The teacher introduced him with a too-bright smile, as if it mattered.

He looked average. Dark hair, pale skin, a faint bruise below his collarbone that no one else seemed to notice. His expression was unreadable, like someone caught mid-thought and not bothering to return to the world around him.

But Aria noticed something deeper — a tug beneath her skin, subtle but undeniable. The curse stirred. She didn’t know why. He didn’t radiate malice. He didn’t even speak. Yet something about him whispered of contradiction.

That was enough.

At lunch, she found him alone on the rooftop, leaning against the railing as if he wasn’t sure whether he was meant to fall or not.

“I don’t like being followed,” he said without turning around.

Aria said nothing at first. The wind caught her hair, and the silence stretched.

“You’re new,” she finally replied.

“You’re blunt.”

“You’re interesting.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Yes.”

He turned to face her then. His gaze was flat, but behind it was something... displaced. Like his soul hadn’t quite settled into his body.

“You’re dangerous,” he said, voice low. “I can feel it.”

“So are you,” Aria replied, stepping closer.

Her curse pulsed beneath her skin. Every step felt like walking on shards, subtle pain warning her that time was running thin. She needed mana.

But more than that—

She needed to understand what he was.

Her hand flicked out. Not a strike — a whisper of mana, a test. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink.

“Most people back away,” she murmured.

“I’m not most people.”

She stared into his eyes.

A single word, shaped by magic.

“Divide.”

The rooftop dissolved.

---

The Black Cage formed around them.

Dark stone walls rose in all directions, swallowing light. Chains slithered from the edges like hungry snakes. The air was heavy with echoes that didn’t belong to this moment — pain remembered by the space itself.

Ren stood at the center, no longer leaning, no longer relaxed. But not afraid.

Aria walked slowly, conjuring the first instrument — jagged hooks that hovered above her palm, forged of shimmering black mana.

“I don’t enjoy this,” she said. “But I require it.”

“You need pain.”

“Yes.”

And with that, the first hook plunged.

It passed through skin.

No scream. No gasp. Not even a twitch.

Aria blinked.

She moved faster — a second strike, then a third, dragging blades through his shoulders, slashing across nerves. Still, he only looked at her.

Empty.

“What are you?” she whispered, frustrated.

“I don’t know anymore,” he replied.

She summoned a cruciform frame behind him. Chains pulled his arms outward. A wheel spun to life, slow and serrated, set to grind bone.

Still — nothing.

Her heart pounded with something strange — not fury. Not confusion. Curiosity.

She stepped close, and with mana, stopped the instruments.

“…Explain.”

Ren exhaled softly, almost a sigh.

“When I was young,” he said, “my father used to beat me until I couldn’t move. It went on for years. One night, after he left me bleeding in the kitchen, I passed out.”

His eyes looked past her, far away.

“In that dream, a voice called out to me. Just a whisper. It asked if I wanted to be free from pain. I said yes. I woke up the next morning... and I couldn’t feel anything anymore. Not heat. Not cold. Not pain.”

Aria’s breath caught.

The voice.

“The Entity,” she whispered to herself.

“What?”

She didn’t answer.

She’d never heard of the voice choosing someone else.

Why? Why would it curse her... and shield him?

She reached out again, placed a hand on his chest. Her mana surged, not with torture this time, but healing. She wouldn’t let him die. Not yet.

“You’re broken,” she said.

“Maybe.”

“…I’m going to find out why,” she murmured. “And if you're connected to it…”

She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to.

The Black Cage dissolved around them, returning them to the rooftop.

Ren swayed slightly, but his footing was steady. He glanced at her, almost curious.

“You going to kill me next time?”

Aria met his eyes.

“No,” she said. “Not until I understand what you are.”

—