Born to Suffer

The wind rustled softly through the trees. The air smelled crisp and untouched, unlike anything he'd breathed before.
Ryuji wasn’t on Earth anymore. That much was clear.
“Where is that brat?” came a sharp whisper from within the dense forest.
He jolted upright, disoriented. His body felt strange—slimmer, younger.
“I swear that fool always runs off and cries like a miserable baby,” a man’s voice snarled through the woods.The crunching of leaves grew louder, closer.
Ryuji tried to move, but as soon as he stepped forward, his legs buckled.He collapsed face-first into the dirt with a sickening thud.
A flash of agony shot through him. He turned to see his bare foot—twisted grotesquely, broken in a way that defied nature. Until now, he hadn’t even noticed the pain. But now it screamed through his nerves, searing, fresh—as if it had just been shattered.
“Well, well… look who we have here,” said a voice laced with venom.A woman stepped from the shadows. She wore a short white skirt, an absurdly large hat, and a grin that didn’t reach her eyes. Behind her came two men and another woman, all clad in strange garb.
She raised a hand, and Ryuji's body was yanked into the air like a puppet on strings.Am I… flying? he thought, panic beginning to rise.
The woman gave a wicked smile before lazily flicking her hand to the right. Ryuji was flung through the air, crashing violently against a tree.Blood sprayed from his mouth as his body crumpled to the ground.
“Oh, dear Lucien,” she cooed, striding toward him. “You always loved to run, didn’t you?”“I… I’m not Lucien,” he gasped, the pain clawing at every nerve.
“Sure you’re not,” she said, smirking as she stepped over him. Then she placed a sharp heel against his forehead.He winced, helpless, as pressure mounted.
“I bet you like this, don’t you? You cursed little thing.” Her heel pressed harder, slicing into skin.Ryuji tried to resist, to push her off—but his arms refused to move. It felt like something—someone—was holding them down.
“It’s worthless trying, dear Lucien,” she whispered. “You sick, twisted creature.”
She slammed her heel down.Blood splattered.Some landed on her pristine skirt.
“Tch,” she sneered, waving a hand. The blood vanished. Her skirt looked untouched.
“He’ll die like this, Cherry,” said the other woman in the group, cloaked and cold-eyed. “Hart, heal him.”The muscular man beside her sighed and stepped forward. “Yeah, yeah.”
He placed a hand over Ryuji’s mangled body. Warmth spread. Torn flesh stitched itself, bruises faded, bones cracked back into place.
Cherry scoffed. “Healing him is a waste of time.”“He’s valuable,” said a thin man dressed entirely in black.
She rolled her eyes, then looked to the sky. “It’s getting late. We need to reach the village before nightfall.”“Damn,” muttered the man in black, stretching. “I wanted to hunt some Veln tonight.”
“Loren,” said the cloaked woman, exasperated, “not now.”He grinned. “I’ll miss the hunt, Pascha.”
With another flick of her hand, Cherry lifted Ryuji into the air again. His unconscious body floated behind them like a lifeless doll.“Let’s move.”
---
They arrived just as the last of the sunlight died.“What took you so long?” an old woman asked, hurrying to meet Cherry. “I was worried—it’s nearly nightfall.”
“Grandma, really,” Cherry sighed, “you don’t have to worry so much.”
“Of course I do,” the old woman replied. Then she caught sight of Ryuji.
“Oh, poor Lucien,” she said softly, eyes full of strange affection. “Let’s take him home. I’m sure the others gave him a hard time.”
“Grandma—” Cherry protested, but the old woman had already taken him, floating him gently away.Cherry groaned and followed, defeated.
“I honestly pity Lucien,” Hart muttered. “I hope he finds peace someday.”
---
Ryuji awoke in a small wooden bed, barely able to open his eyes.“Where the... am I?” he groaned.
The room was old—ancient, even. Wooden beams, dusty furniture. A sword hung on the wall, glinting eerily in the lamp’s glow. Outside, night had fallen.
“Oh, you’re awake,” said the old woman from earlier, stepping in with a warm smile. “How are you feeling, dear Lucien?”
“…Lucien?” he echoed.“I’m fine,” he added, more out of instinct than belief.Who the heck is Lucien? he thought. That’s not me.
“You should rest,” she said kindly. “I’ll keep you alive as long as I can.”
Ryuji frowned. There was something unsettling about her smile.“Thank you… I guess.”
She tilted her head, observing him.“You seem… different. More polite. Sweeter, even.”
She smiled again. “Sleep, child. Night has fallen.”She walked away, her footsteps fading into silence.
---
Ryuji rose from the bed, curiosity overpowering caution. The house looked straight out of a medieval painting—no tech, no electricity. Lanterns burned without fuel, casting warm unnatural light.
He found a brown coat and top hat on a chair. They fit him perfectly, as if tailored for him.
Outside, the air was cold and still.Two moons hung in the sky—close, luminous.Definitely not Earth.
The village was eerily empty. Not a single soul wandered. Each house had a lantern glowing at its doorstep.
Then, movement.Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a cloaked figure drifting through the mist.
He followed.As he walked, the lights of the village dimmed behind him.The figure floated forward, relentless.Panic seized him.He turned back—too far from the village.‘No…’
He sprinted toward the lights. The figure gave chase, slow but persistent.
Finally, he reached the lantern glow. As he crossed into the light, the figure halted… and vanished into the night.
Shaken, he returned to the old woman’s home. The warmth felt unnatural now.
He changed into a white tunic laid out for him and glanced into a bucket of water.
The reflection wasn't his.Blonde hair. Black eyes. A face he didn’t recognize.I’m not Ryuji anymore… I’m Lucien.
His stomach growled.But he ignored it and let sleep take him.
---
Morning.Lucien stepped outside.
“Up early, Lucien?” a man barked, hefting a massive log over his shoulder. “Norman won’t be happy if you’re late.”Lucien remained silent.
Another man approached—black cloak, black tunic. Norman.“Good morning, Lucien,” he said mockingly. “What? Cat got your tongue?”Lucien said nothing.
“Fine. Be that way.”Norman summoned a whip from thin air and lashed it across Lucien’s legs.
He screamed.
“Yes,” Norman hissed. “Cry, you miserable little thing.”Another lash. More pain.
“Already, Norman?!” a towering man bellowed, approaching.“You know I enjoy it, Ray,” Norman said with a grin.
Soon after, Lucien was dragged into labor. Chopping wood. Farming. Manual tasks that broke the body and eroded the soul.He worked in silence, every step a dagger of pain.
But then,As he raised his axe, squinting against the sun, he saw something.
A flame.A small, flickering red flame beneath each worker.Everyone had one. Weak. Fading. Like dying embers.The flames weren’t physical. They were something else. Something deeper.Something… real.Ryuji had died.Lucien had been born.But in this world, even souls had to burn.And his… was just beginning to ignite.