Reincarnation

He stood alone on a vast field, where the grass danced gently in the light, fresh evening breeze. The sun dipped the sky into a sea of gold and red, while the dense pine forest at the edge seemed to enclose the world. But deep inside, he knew: This was merely the harbinger of a storm that would change everything.

So this is my last sunset? At least it's such a beautiful and peaceful one.

With slow but determined steps, he approached the forest's edge. Inside, he found a small clearing, threaded by a babbling brook and dominated by a moss-covered stone boulder. He crouched down on it, assuming a meditative pose, and waited. Moments later, he glanced at his phone: 7:50 PM. The sun had fully set.

No signal... Sorry, Yuoko. You'll probably only find out once I've arrived.

He pocketed the phone and sank back into silence. Though the sun was gone, the sky grew darker still. Clouds gathered, the wind picked up, whipping through the branches as if they might snap at any moment. A deep, menacing thunder rolled in, and distant lightning flashed. Finally, the first raindrop landed on his crossed knees.

They should be here any moment...

From afar came footsteps and voices.

"I think he's back there!" one shouted.

"Quick, we have to stop him!"

I guess it's time.

About fifty meters away, a group of five figures emerged—shadows in the darkness, cloaked in black camouflage that covered their bodies almost entirely.

"Get out of here! You can't stop me. You'll only make it worse!" he called out firmly.

"You can't do this! You're going too far. You can't just undo everything like that."

"We'll see about that," he replied calmly, clenching his fist and grasping the necklace with the blue stone around his neck. A bright blue light flared—and he was gone.

"Quick, we have to catch him! He can't be far, and he can't keep this up much longer!"

They burst out of the forest onto the wide, open field.

"There he is! I see him!" one yelled.

"After him!" another cried, pointing in the direction.

But a third pulled the hand down and said gravely: "No, it's too late. He's made his choice, and we can't change his mind now. If he flees, we won't catch him. We have to end this for good. How many more have to die? Fire! No warning shots—kill him, or he won't stop!"

He ran across the open field, with no cover, no escape. Suddenly, something whizzed past his left ear.

A graze. They're serious.

He clenched his right fist and reached for the necklace again.

"No, you're not getting away this time!" a pursuer shouted, firing from approximately four hundred meters with a sniper rifle.

"Sorry, it's over, Aku."

...

"Damn, he teleported again!" another cursed.

"I'm sure I hit him. He won't make it."

Gathering his last strength, he had vanished. Before the blue light enveloped him, he heard a loud bang. A burning pain exploded in his back.

Damn, that bastard got me. The bleeding's bad—I have to hurry.

Before him appeared a staircase of dark stone, leading to a temple-like entrance. Inside, it was pitch black; only when lightning struck did it cast flickering shadows. He stumbled in, pushed through the darkness, and reached a room with tall pillars. In the center stood an altar.

I've made it. This is the room. Give me one more chance. I'll make it right.

On the altar was a round basin with a crystal illuminated by faint moonlight—a hole in the ceiling let the glow through. Slowly, he approached, placed something in the basin with trembling hands, turned, and leaned his back against the altar's base. He slid to the floor.

I think I've done it. The moment of truth.

Suddenly, a blinding white light filled the room, radiating from the basin. His pain-twisted face relaxed into one of deep relief.

It worked. I've... I've... done it...

His eyes closed. He sat still and motionless, as warmth left his body. Everything grew quiet.

A shrill beeping pierced his ears, like a piercing tinnitus. He snapped his eyes open and found himself in a rustic hut. He was lying in a narrow bed, and the place seemed empty. Slowly, he pushed himself up. The hut was shrouded in near-total darkness, save for a faint beam of light filtering through a window—not natural daylight, but an eerie, dark blue shimmer, like refractions underwater.

Where am I?

A soft creak echoed from the adjacent room.

Is someone else here?

Cautiously, he opened the door. In the corner stood a cradle. He approached slowly, and inside lay a sleeping baby.

What’s a baby doing here? Does someone live in this place?

He turned—and behind him loomed a dark silhouette, a figure that was there and yet not.

“Who are you? Where am I?”

No response...

The silhouette moved toward the outer door and stepped outside.

Should I follow it?

Hesitantly, he did. But the moment his foot touched the sand outside, he sank into it. Panic surged; he gasped for air, as if an invisible force was yanking him down with brutal speed. A crushing weight pressed on his chest. He closed his eyes and blacked out.

An instant later, he jolted awake, springing up in panic.

He was sitting on a bed in a perfectly normal room, sunlight streaming through the window.

Was that just a dream?

He stood and stared into the mirror. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week: jet-black hair, short and slightly disheveled, falling in blunt strands over his forehead. His eyes were sharp and piercing, gleaming with an intense golden-brown hue, as if he’d seen a ghost. His youthful face had sharp, angular features, blending vulnerability and strength, over pale, almost translucent skin.

I look wrecked. My stomach’s churning, breathing’s a struggle.

Sweat beaded on his forehead.

What kind of fever dream was that?

He bolted to the adjacent bathroom, knelt over the toilet, and vomited. After rinsing his face at the sink, he stumbled down the spiral staircase to the kitchen. His mother was gazing out the window and turned at the sound of his footsteps.

“Oh my God, Aku! You look awful. Are you okay?” she asked, alarmed.

“No, no, I’m fine. Just slept badly,” he muttered.

“Come sit down and eat something. Today’s the last day of school before Christmas break. Yuto’s already had breakfast.”

His brother Yuto entered the kitchen.

“Morning, Aku. You ready? Today’s the last school d— Holy crap, what happened to you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!” he exclaimed.

“Nah, just bad sleep. I’ll be ready in a sec.”

“If you’re not feeling well, we can skip the Christmas market tonight. I’ll tell the others,” Yuto said, concerned.

“No, no, I’ll come. It’ll be fine. I’m good. The others are looking forward to it.”

“Alright, if you say so.”

Normally, Aku loved his morning cornflakes. They were simple and straightforward—perfect when you didn't have much time but still needed something in your stomach before school. But today, he just sat tensely on his chair, stirring slowly with his spoon, barely eating a bite.

"Come on, Aku, you need to eat a little. I know it's the last day of school and you're excited about the Christmas market, but you can't start the day on an empty stomach," his mother noticed.

Aku struggled to swallow. It felt like a lump in his throat. But for his mom's sake, he forced it down.

"Alright then, see you boys tonight. Take care and let me know when you're back from the market."

The fresh air did Aku good. On the way to school, he started feeling better. It was still dark, with only the street lamps lighting the path.

"It's a shame it hasn't snowed yet this year. Imagine how beautiful the snow would sparkle in the lamplight," he said dreamily.

"Well, it's supposed to start snowing this morning. With these temperatures, it might even stick. And there's a snowstorm forecast for tonight. Hopefully it won't be too bad, so we can get home safely," Yuto replied.

"Don't worry. We're a strong group—we just need to stick together."

The school day dragged on as boringly as ever. At the end, the homeroom teacher gave his typical year-end speech, laced with his dry humor. He could barely hold back laughter as he said, "We'll see each other again in a year"—which was nonsense, of course, since it was only two weeks and just the year changing. Some found it funny; who am I to spoil the fun?

"So, enjoy your free time. Think of your family and friends, do something nice. But you won't get away without thinking of me. As always: homework, so you don't turn into lazy zombies glued to the TV or goofing off at Christmas markets. Now, have a great break!"

Who came up with homework during vacations? They're just trying to annoy us students so we don't have more fun than they do. Whatever.

Before Aku, Yuto, and their friends headed out, they met in the cafeteria for a quick bite.

"Aku, how much do you want to do my homework for me?" Natsumi asked with a grin.

"Nothing, Natsumi. You think I do mine? I always give them to Yuto—he gets to borrow my video games in return. Ask him."

"Hey, I can hear you! Better do them yourself, Natsumi, maybe you'll finally get better grades," Yuto shot back.

"Hmph! What's that supposed to mean? Fine, I'll do them alone. And they'll be better than yours!" she declared confidently. But as she spoke, she realized how unrealistic it sounded, and her voice trailed off.

The others burst out laughing, and even Natsumi couldn't hold it in. Aku finally smiled again. The dream had lingered for a while, but with his friends, he pushed it completely out of his mind.

"Look outside—it's snowing! And it looks like it'll stick this time," Mei said softly.

Mei didn't talk much usually. In class, she was quiet, only speaking when called on—but always correctly. She was shy and introverted, but fit perfectly in the group and opened up among friends. Natsumi was the opposite: extroverted, speaking before thinking, but a kind, honest soul who kept the group together and always lifted the mood. Kaito was similarly outgoing, always ready with a comment—though Natsumi usually beat him to it. He had a new crush every week, and Natsumi tried to set him up. He wasn't ugly or dumb; he just lacked charisma with girls. And then there was Benny: the prankster and party animal, without whom adventures were half as fun. Unfortunately, he was away with his family—a booking mix-up meant they left mid-week. They'd covered for him, telling the teacher he was sick.

On the way to the Christmas market, Aku was lost in thought. While the others chattered about their vacation plans and swapped ideas for what to do next together, he walked silently beside them. It wasn't sadness he felt—more like an indefinable emptiness. As if something crucial was missing.

“Hey Aku, what are you up to next week? Want to join us?” Natsumi asked curiously.

No response. Aku was trapped in his own world.

“Hey Aku, hello? Anyone home?”

Only when she stepped in front of him, nearly colliding, did he notice.

"Huh… N.. Natsumi, what's up?" he asked, confused.

"I called you twice—you didn't react."

"Oh, sorry. I just zoned out."

"I don't know you like this, Aku. You're usually never this quiet. Did something happen? Want to talk about it?" she offered.

The others moved a few steps ahead, while Aku and Natsumi lagged behind.

"We're right behind you! Go on, we'll catch up!" Natsumi called out.

She was usually the one cracking jokes and cheering everyone up, but she knew when to get serious and listen. Aku's odd behavior had been bugging her all day.

"You know you can tell me anything, Aku. We're always here for you. You've seemed off the whole day."

"I don't really know... Probably just slept badly. Had this really weird dream that won't leave my head."

"Want to tell me about it? Might not help much, but sometimes just saying it out loud does, you know?"

Aku recounted the dream: the hut in that strange void, the baby, and the silhouette luring him outside.

"It might've just been a dream, but I can't shake the feeling it was important. Like I've forgotten something crucial," he added.

Natsumi pondered for a moment. "Yeah, that does sound weird. I get why it's confusing you. But if it really means something, you'll figure it out. I'm sure of it. It'll be okay, Aku. And if you have another weird dream or feel off, tell me anytime."

"Thanks, Natsumi. I feel a bit better now that I've shared it. But hey... do you feel like we're being watched?" he asked, glancing around.

They were walking on a snow-covered path through an open pine forest. In the distance, the Christmas market lights twinkled, and the others were visible as silhouettes. Snow crunched under their shoes, and the cold air nipped at their cheeks.

"I don't know, not really. We're not the only ones heading to the market. Don't overthink it—enjoy the evening. I'll get you some cookies or hot cocoa."

He looked at her and smiled.

"Thanks, Natsumi. I really appreciate that."

She blushed a little. It bothered her when a friend was down—she was deeply empathetic. So she was glad she'd managed to calm him.