The Meeting

The dark, silent void of the subconscious stretched endlessly. Duncan’s faint form flickered among shifting shadows, his face pale as a corpse. His hollow eyes stared into some distant nowhere.

Urotasu, in his true form—a silver-haired man with piercing blue eyes—studied Duncan with a probing gaze. They’d been silent for ages, and curiosity was getting the better of him. Something about the way Duncan had ended his life felt off.

“So,” Urotasu’s voice cut through the stillness, sharp and cold, “care to explain why you thought jumping off a cliff like some daft frog was a bright idea?”

Duncan flinched faintly, his eyes slowly turning to Urotasu. His lips trembled before parting.

“Nightmares,” he whispered, voice cracking. “Every night… the same bloody nightmare.”

Urotasu’s eyebrow shot up. He could already guess where this was going, especially after glimpsing that horrific memory of Duncan’s past—the murder.

“Nightmares about that night, eh?” Urotasu said, his tone laced with mockery. “Your dad killing your mum right in front of you?”

Duncan nodded slowly, his eyes quivering with unshed tears. “Every night… I see it again and again. Blood on the floor, lightning crashing, and… her scream, cut short.” His voice faded to a whisper. “I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Urotasu let out a harsh scoff. “So you decided to leg it like a coward? Threw yourself off a cliff just because you couldn’t face your memories?”

“You don’t get it,” Duncan murmured, his fists clenching. “That night… the night I jumped, it was the same date as her death, nine years ago.”

Urotasu’s eyes narrowed. “And?”

“The Wiedersehen Cycle,” Duncan continued, his voice shaking. “If a parent and child die within ten years of each other, their souls reincarnate with the same status. I… I wanted to see my mum again.”

Silence fell. Urotasu stared at Duncan, eyes widening, before—

“AHAHAHAHA!” His laughter erupted, echoing wildly and startling Duncan. The sound was cold, dripping with disdain. Urotasu clutched his stomach, still chuckling.

“Oh, bloody hell!” he gasped, wiping a tear. “You offed yourself because you believed some daft fairy tale about reincarnation? And, even funnier, you thought dying would let you scarper from your problems?”

Duncan’s face flushed, a mix of shame and anger. “It’s not a fairy tale! The Wiedersehen Cycle is—”

“Utter tosh!” Urotasu cut him off, his voice booming. His eyes blazed with a fierce blue light. “You want to know your real problem, Duncan? You’re a coward. A spineless git who’d rather run than face the bitter truth.”

As a former Kanjo user who could sense emotions, Urotasu felt the raw fear pouring from Duncan’s soul—a deep, festering terror that had rotted for years. Of all the emotions he’d ever felt, fear was the one Urotasu loathed most.

His Kanjo ability hadn’t just let him sense emotions; it let him peel back their layers. He could feel Duncan’s fear tangled with guilt, regret, and a longing to escape reality.

“You’ll never understand,” Duncan said, his voice trembling, his round eyes glaring with a mix of resentment and sorrow. “You’ll never know what it’s like to lose the person you love most.”

Thump.

Duncan’s words hit Urotasu like a punch. His sarcastic grin vanished, replaced by a look of deadly seriousness and barely contained rage. Veins bulged at his temples, his jaw tightened, and his blue eyes darkened into something terrifying.

“Never understand?” Urotasu’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “You, a sheltered little brat who knows nothing of the world’s cruelty, dare tell me I don’t understand loss?”

He stepped forward, his presence suddenly towering and menacing. “You think you’re the only one who’s lost someone dear? I’ve lost more people than your feeble mind could ever fathom!”

Duncan took a step back, fear creeping in.

“The difference,” Urotasu continued, his tone growing more threatening, “is I never ran from reality like a coward. I know dwelling on the past only makes you weak and useless.”

Silence descended again, broken only by Duncan’s ragged, frightened breaths. Urotasu glared at the boy with disgust before turning and walking away.

“Even though this world’s got plenty of intriguing bits to poke at, my job’s done,” he said without looking back. “I died in my old world, so I’ve no stake in sticking around in your body—besides, I’m not sure I can survive a world without takoyaki. So, get back in your own skin, lad. Face your nightmares and stop being a burden.”

Duncan stood silent, staring at Urotasu’s retreating figure. His face was blank, devoid of expression. Slowly, his form began to fade, turning translucent until it vanished completely from the dark subconscious.

Urotasu didn’t look back, even as he felt Duncan’s presence dissolve entirely. He kept walking until the darkness swallowed him too.

“Tch, the bloody kid scarpered.”

***

Urotasu’s eyes fluttered open, his consciousness returning to the real world. The ceiling above him was intact, no longer blasted apart by his lightning magic. Soft moonlight streamed through the window, signaling night had fallen.

He rose slowly from the bed, Duncan’s body still stiff and knackered. His gaze fell to his hands, staring blankly. Duncan’s words echoed in his mind: “You’ll never know what it’s like to lose the person you love most.”

Suddenly, unbidden memories of his own past surged forward. A beautiful woman with long black hair and a warm smile filled his mind, dressed in a vibrant red hakama and a snow-white haori. Uta, his lost love.

He could still recall that night vividly, when Kamogawa City was gripped by panic as a Kanjomon called Jogoyama appeared. A monstrous beast, mountain-sized, like a dragon mixed with a giant insect. Its black body writhed with terrifying tentacles, and thick purple smoke poured from its gaping maw.

Kanjomon were entities born from humanity’s negative emotions, and Jogoyama was the worst kind, feeding on fear of disease and death. The stronger people’s fear, the more powerful it grew. At the time, a mysterious plague ravaged Kamogawa, making Jogoyama monstrously unstoppable.

Young and cocky, Urotasu had thought his Kanjo powers could handle any beast. He was wrong. Jogoyama overwhelmed him, and in a critical moment, Uta—who’d insisted on fighting alongside him—was struck by the monster’s attack.

He could still see Uta’s body flung back, blood streaming from her mouth. Urotasu had rushed to her, holding her for the last time. With a weak smile, she touched his face and whispered, “I’m sorry… I can’t protect you anymore.”

Her death unleashed a storm of emotions in Urotasu—vengeance, rage, and profound loss fused into a devastating force. Channeling that negativity, he defeated Jogoyama in a final battle that nearly cost his own life.

When the monster fell, Urotasu stood amidst Kamogawa’s ruins, cradling Uta’s cold body. That was when he learned that clinging to grief and regret wouldn’t bring back the dead. He had to let Uta go to move forward and grow stronger.

Back in the present, Urotasu clenched Duncan’s fists, veins bulging as he suppressed his anger. “That bloody kid… daring to say I don’t know loss,” he muttered, voice trembling with emotion. “Thinks he’s the only one suffering in the world?”

He leapt from the bed, his footsteps stomping on the wooden floor. His rage peaked—not just at Duncan’s words, but because the boy’s cowardice reminded him of his own younger, weaker self, when he’d lost his beloved.

Urotasu stormed to the large mirror in the room’s corner. In the dim moonlight, Duncan’s pale, tired reflection stared back. But the eyes glaring from the glass were Urotasu’s—sharp, cold, and brimming with resolve.

He locked eyes with the reflection as if facing Duncan himself. “Listen up, you sodding brat,” he growled, voice low and menacing. “I’ll drag your soul back into this body. And you’ll keep facing your misery, because that’s the price of your cowardice.”

His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles whitening. “You thought dying would let you escape? You’re dead wrong. I’ll make sure you face every nightmare until you learn to stop being a pathetic loser, you bloody git.”