Everyone Is Bound to Pay a Price

Time stopped. The man in front of me slammed the door and was looking at her. The pupils of my eyes could dart around, but I couldn’t move anything besides it. I glanced outside the window, the lunar light was surrounded by darkness and puffy clouds from what I saw. The room’s ceiling was decked up with sparkly lights, and there were small stuffed toys around me. I couldn’t comprehend where I was.

Unable to anything. I tried to flick my fingers together, even if it was tough, but that’s when the voice spoke.

Oracle has returned.

I assumed the voice’s name was Oracle, but I couldn’t understand where it returned from. As I pondered, the voice continued. This time, what it stated showered shivers down my spine.

Soul infusion utterly failed. Unable to infuse the soul of the Hero: Yusaka Kurose. Therefore, the soul of the individual: Kurose would be obliterated.

…Huh? I was bewildered. Moreover, I was shocked. Why was it sacrificing Kurose’s soul? Who was he? It wasn’t me as I could still see, hear, and observe. Then, why did he have my name? Perhaps, I was in his body. As I mulled about my predicament with a tickle sensation of a sweat emerging on my forehead, the voice spoke. This was the last time I heard it. And I wished what I heard wasn’t reality, but surely, it was.

The attempt has succeeded.

The collection of his memories, the child named Kurose flashed before my eyes. The memory when he was born, his mother gently held him in her arms, the memory when he took his first steps toward his father—and every moment of tranquil, joy, warmth, astonishment, and happiness flickered before my eyes and a drop of water developed and descended upon my cheek as they shattered, each and every one of them.

A thought struck into my mind. If I hadn’t reincarnated and lived my life as it was until my last breath, I would haven’t taken a child’s life. I stole it.

The time moved forward as my emotions subsided. My fingers snapped, but nothing happened. My hand’s grip on my throat had lightened. The man ran toward me in a hurry, I presumed to check on me. But I wasn’t suffering now, somehow my suffocation had concluded and saliva was drooling out of my mouth, on the bedsheet. As my breaths calmed, my vision grew distant, my eyelids were fluttering inadvertently and the voices of the parents of Kurose gradually silenced into a high-pitched monotone. My mother threw a book at him, muttering something. As my father opened and flipped the pages of the book—everything in my sight began to fade into darkness, and I dropped down on my bed, passing out suddenly.

I woke up to birds’ chirping on the window’s bottom frame, then rubbed my bleary eyes as the sunlight narrowed my eyes slightly. That wasn’t a dream, was it? I thought, and placed my hand over my chest, then clenching it shortly afterwards. The moments of silence passed, I slapped myself softly and threw the blanket around.

Even though Kurose’s soul was obliterated due to me, I knew I couldn’t dwell on the moments that had passed. There wasn’t ample time for it, nor the correct time, either. I stood up, and looked around the room.

The room had a massive bed, stuffed toys on the bed, a closet near the door, and a ceiling decorated with shimmering warm lights. As I darted my eyes around the room, I noticed a mirror, propped up against the wall. My eyes reflected my own image and I noticed I had a small body, my hair was black, and my eyes color was white. Put simply, I was a small child now.

My eyes locked on the closet which was around the lying mirror. If what I observed last night wasn’t a dream, I saw my mother grabbing a book and throwing it toward him. I ambled toward the closet, and wrapped my fingers around its handle, then pulled it gently toward me. I noticed there were plenty of books, shrouded in darkness in the closet. I picked the book that was atop every book and pushed the closet door shut.

Presumably, the book in my hand, which had a leather covering with a name engraved on the front, was the book my father flipped the pages of as I fainted. The book’s name was obscured to me, but as I peered at it, I grasped it.

The engraved name on the book read Body Manipulation Arts.

Without wasting any moment, I flipped the cover page and suddenly, the door opened, I closed the book and threw it into the closet discreetly. Her hands were clasped around her chest, and as she noticed me, her eyes became watery. She ran toward me, knelt down and warmly wrapped her arms around me as she spoke.

“Kuro… I thought something happened to you.” Her grip tightened as her soft, yet gentle voice melted my heart. My eyes widened, then I bit my lower lip. What have I done… A wry smile curled on my lips as I hugged her with my quivering hands, and with a feeling of an ice lance piercing my back.

A thudding sound of running on the stairs hastily came, and a hand reached the door frame. He looked inside, noticed me and stepped inside the room. He walked toward me, then placed a hand over my hand and spoke.

“Kurose, I’m glad you’re alright.” He smiled.

“Hely, I’ll bring the Priest here.” He said.

She nodded, her arms still wrapped around me. Then, he faintly smiled as he patted her head, stepped outside the room and went downstairs.

She looked into my eyes, her own reflecting on mine. And as her long dark hair with ember-blonde ombré tips shone against the sunlight—a blush crept across her face as she tilted her head slightly, and with a soft smile on her lips, she murmured.

“I’m really grateful you’re okay. Kurose.”

She placed her hand over my head, and rubbed my hair gently. “I’ll make your favorite meal today. Just for you, Kuro.”

I didn’t know what to feel. I remained quiet. The warmth I was feeling was incomprehensible to me. Before leaving the room, she wrapped her arms around me once again, then stepped outside with a bright smile.

I stood up slowly, then closed the closet’s door as I deeply exhaled. Really, What have I done… A feeling in my heart had become more heavier in a few moments. I didn’t know what to do. And the truth remained, I couldn’t do anything. But I had to move forward. What had passed wouldn’t come back, and there was no way to create the precise moment again. I was powerless.

I took a deep breath, and sighed. I stepped out of my room, and noticed a staircase leading downfloor on my right, then went downstairs. I noticed her in the kitchen, humming and adding eggs into something in the cooking pot, then stirring it with a wooden ladle. She turned my head toward me, smiled, and spoke.

“Kurose, sit in the chair. It’s almost ready.”

“...Okay.” I replied.

I sat in the wooden chair by the dining table beside the kitchen counter. She placed a white-flower patterned ceramic bowl on the table, then served me Kurose’s favorite meal in it. If I took a look around me, this house had polished smooth stone walls, a classy refined oak dining table, and a living room with a plush upholstered sofa that was down a pair of steps. I looked back on the dish again, I wrapped my fingers around the spoon and took a bite. Kurose's favorite meal had a mild flavour of spice, and of strong sweetness. As I ate the last bits of it, I decided what I had to do next.

I have to read the book I found.

“Mother, I finished eating.” I said, looking at her in the kitchen.

“Do you want to eat something lighter, Kurose?” She replied, and raised her arm with an apple in her hand. “Apple or…?”

“No, no. Mother.” I waved my hand in disapproval. “Can I go back in the room to rest?”

“You’re still feeling bad?”

“No, mother. I’m just feeling a little lightheaded.”

“I see. Go rest, Kurose.”

“Thank you, mother.” I said, stood up, then slid the chair beneath the dining table.

I climbed the stairs, walked to the room, and opened the door, then pushed it gently when I stepped in. I pulled the closet door toward me quietly, and grabbed the book once again. The first page of the book was a blank, ragged page. I turned the page and on the second one, the title, “Body Manipulation Arts” was written. There wasn’t anything other than the title, I flipped the page and chapter one was entitled “The Art of Clearing the Throat.” The first Art was trivial to me. I skipped it and leafed through the pages once again until I reached the next chapter with a bookmark. The Art name written on the second’s chapter first page was Cellular Restoration Art.

As I tried to read the first word, I couldn’t. Even though I tried many times, I wasn’t able to read it. The words felt obscured to me, and when I focused, delving into them, I felt giddy. I closed the book with a deep sigh, and lay onto the bed. There wasn’t much for me to do other than reading other books. My eyelids slowly began to clash against each other unintentionally, I yawned and when I was about to fall asleep, I heard two voices coming from outside. The one I was familiar with, and one was of a stranger. I didn’t pay much attention, though. I closed my eyes and relaxed myself—that’s when a voice called me, reverberating throughout the whole house.

“Kurose, can you come down for a minute?” My father shouted.

His voice sent shivers down my spine. I had no choice. I stood up, and opened the door with a sigh. As I went downstairs, I noticed a man, wearing an open black robe, a white shirt underneath with a golden pendant around his neck. When I gazed at him, he peeked behind him and smiled, then spoke, looking at me.

“Hello, Kurose.” His voice felt gentle, and somewhat pleasant in my eardrums. “I’m here to talk about you. And the church’s ceremony.”