Shinrabansho: Myriad Souls

He went on, as if he’d been waiting years to finally say this aloud to someone.

“I recoiled from her counter,” Mitsuhiko said, his tone drifting into something almost nostalgic as his monologue continued. “The elevator slid open behind her, its little ding chiming like a mockery of my composure.”

His eyes narrowed faintly.

“I hadn’t expected that she’d be a formidable martial artist. We never discussed such matters. I didn’t know what she was capable of.”

A slight, thin smile tugged at his lips.

“Reiko was full of surprises.”

He leaned back in the chair, his fingertips tapping thoughtfully.

“I was hard-pressed to reclaim my scroll. She moved beautifully… quick, precise, determined. Our hands and legs flew as we clashed, exchanging strikes that would’ve impressed even my past instructors. For a moment, I admired her all over again.”

His expression hardened.

“But between us lay the cold, immovable fact… she had betrayed me.”

His jaw tightened.

“It broke my heart,” he said simply.

Behind my helmet, I clenched my teeth, breath trembling.

“With each blow we traded,” he continued, “I saw the… hatred reflected in her eyes.”

He shook his head slightly.

“But I refused to believe that. No. I convinced myself that what I saw was merely determination. Fear. Confusion. Anything but hatred. I told myself she still loved me… subconsciously. She had to.”

He let out a soft exhale, half-laugh, half-lament.

“The battle escalated. Arms, legs, elbows, knees… the genkan became our arena. While we exchanged those strikes, I was measuring her level. Gauging her strength. Her speed. Her resolve.”

His eyes glinted.

“And soon, I was confident I could disable her.”

He said it not with arrogance, but with certainty… the terrifying certainty of a man who truly believed he was always right.

“So I took it up a notch. I began to show her my true skill.”

His voice dipped, almost fond.

“We careened across the genkan. I slammed my palms into her centerline… her torso, her chest. Blunt force, controlled. She dodged some, but not enough.”

He paused for a moment.

“Then I realized she was starting to suffer.”

His expression cracked… just barely.

“For a moment… regret filled me.”

He looked down.

“To the point that I stopped fighting.”

Something inside me twisted painfully.

“Reiko. Please stand down,” he reenacted softly, lifting his gaze. “I told her I didn’t want her to suffer. That what she saw wasn’t what she thought. That I had hurt no one.”

He sighed through his nose.

“‘Bullshit!’ she shouted at me.”

His voice sharpened, imitating her perfectly.

“‘You’ve hurt many people! I’ve read all about you!’ she accused. ‘You pretend to be noble! Stop hiding! If you regret anything, turn yourself in! You even killed your family for your ambitions!’”

He chuckled.

Not kindly.

Not bitterly.

Something in-between… like the laugh of someone who believed he was the tragic hero of his own story.

“I smiled,” he said, almost dreamily. “And I told her she spoke of ambition. Dreams. Her dream of becoming an amazing reporter…”

His eyes softened.

“I could have paved that road for her. I could have given her everything. If she had stayed with me, we could have changed the world together. Forged a better one.”

He inhaled.

“And then she said the most foolish thing anyone has ever said to me.”

He spoke the words slowly, relishing them…

“‘I can do it without you, you meathead!’”

The temperature of the room changed.

My breath hitched involuntarily.

“She held the scroll up,” Mitsuhiko continued, his voice tightening, “and she walked toward the elevator.”

He pressed his lips together.

“My teeth grated. Something inside me snapped. I lost control.”

He didn’t try to excuse it.

He didn’t soften it.

He declared it.

“I leapt across the room,” he said. “I threw her around the genkan. She dodged and weaved behind pots, vases, and relics I had collected with the blood of my hands and the sweat of my family’s heritage.”

His eyes shone with cold light.

“I shattered them all without hesitation. Reiko meant more to me than any decoration, any artifact, any symbol of my inheritance. But the scroll—”

His voice lowered into a growl.

“The scroll was different. It was the last relic my family left me. The last piece of my lineage.”

His fingers twitched.

“‘As long as your pretties are expendable, take this!’ she shouted.”

He smiled faintly.

Almost admiringly.

“She vaulted across the room, lifting more artifacts, more priceless pieces of my heritage… and threw them at me with perfect accuracy.”

His fist tightened.

“I struck them down. One after another. But she was persistent. And I began to tire.”

He breathed once… deeply.

“But even with her defiance… she was outmaneuvered. When she’d destroyed everything in the genkan, I ran out of patience.”

He leaned forward slightly.

“And I took the fight directly to her.”

His voice dropped.

“We exchanged tremendous blows. She was resilient… fierce… almost inexhaustible. But I was stronger. Every time.”

He looked directly at me.

“And when I spotted my moment, I slammed into her. Pinned her against the wall beside the elevator.”

The room felt colder.

“I tried, for the last time, to reason with her. ‘Stay with me. Please. Return my scroll. I’ll forgive everything if you stand down.’”

A pause.

“‘I love you,’ I told her. ‘You accuse me of being a thief or murderer… but YOU are killing everything we have together. YOU are trying to steal the last relic of my family.’”

She responded.

I felt it before he spoke the line.

“‘Didn’t YOU kill them?’ she snarled. ‘In cold blood. That SNEER of yours shows who you are. Pretty words mean NOTHING.’”

His knuckles whitened.

“I grew angry,” he said simply.

“And I seized her by the neck.”

My heart stopped.

“I lifted her,” he continued quietly. “To retrieve the scroll. I… could have used Enenra. It dwells in my shadow. It obeys instantly. It has stolen for me numerous times. Even killed for me.”

He let out a thin breath.

“But I didn’t give the command.”

He closed his eyes.

“I didn’t have the courage to harm her that way.”

Mitsuhiko let out a soft breath, steady and composed, as though reliving every moment with perfect clarity.

“Reiko struggled fiercely,” he said, almost clinically. “Her hands clawed at my wrist. Her legs kicked, full of indignation and fire. Even with my strength, restraining her took effort.”

He tilted his head slightly.

“When her resistance weakened just enough… I saw an opportunity.”

My stomach dropped.

“I kissed her,” he said simply.

The words hit me like a punch.

“A romantic approach,” he added, “might calm her. Might remind her of what we shared.”

He smiled faintly.

“And she kissed me back.”

My breath froze.

He went on…

“For a moment… I was lost.” His expression softened with something disturbingly close to longing. “Her lips, her breath, the way she leaned into me… she had never felt so close.”

Then his gaze lifted.

“But something was… off.”

His voice dipped.

“The kiss broke. My eyes shifted upward… and I saw it.”

He raised a hand as though presenting a portrait.

“The scroll in her grasp had begun to glow.”

A chill ran through me.

“I was astounded yet again by Reiko,” he admitted. “Her unconscious potential… her instinct… her will. To think that in her desperation she tapped into the power of my scroll… my life’s work… She did it without any training. Remarkable.”

He shook his head in quiet awe.

Her grip was weak. Her technique insignificant. She had no experience with such spiritual artifacts…”

His eyes sharpened.

“…And yet she still sent me flying across the genkan.”

He laughed… soft, humorless.

“A demonic creature was born that night. It was a noh-face. A raw, savage manifestation.”

My heart thudded painfully.

“I rose to confront it. Called upon Enenra with a snap of my fingers.”

He snapped again, demonstrating…

The sound echoing through the chamber like the crack of a whip.

“The newly born yokai was ferocious. Wild. Chaotic. But Enenra… ah, Enenra is overwhelming in its power. They clashed in a turmoil of shadow and rage, tearing my genkan apart.”

His expression darkened slightly.

“I could not pursue Reiko. The noh-face barred my path. It struck with uncontrolled violence, reducing the room into shambles. I dodged easily… its creator had given it no clarity, no vision, no anchor.”

He folded his hands neatly.

“Reiko escaped in the chaos. As she fled, something inside me… ignited.”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment.

“The thought of being defeated by the woman I loved set every nerve ablaze. I was filled with a new, deeper reverence for her. She was magnificent. Fierce. Worthy of becoming my wife.”

My shoulders tensed.

“I refused to let her slip away. My feelings unlocked another layer of my consciousness. I fought harder than ever before. I assaulted the Noh-face’s fragile ego… such as it was.”

He waved a hand dismissively.

“It wasn’t strong to begin with. Reiko’s will… while impressive… was still the will of a frightened girl.”

He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming.

“Gradually, I asserted my dominance. My consciousness overwhelmed hers. My will crushed its identity.”

A cold, perfect smile curved his lips.

“In the end… the scroll was mine. The demon ink was mine. The blood in its strokes was mine. My own essence… my own lineage… carried more weight than anything Reiko could have mustered.”

He exhaled lightly.

“When I finally smothered its id, the noh-face sagged. And bowed before me.”

He said it with calm certainty, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“I smiled,” he continued. “It was only fitting that I send the creature back to her.”

His voice lowered into a cruel whisper.

“‘Take back the scroll,’ I commanded it. ‘And while you’re at it… take her face from her.’”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

He straightened.

“Noh-face vanished to chase Reiko,” he said.

“And that… was not the last time I saw her.”

I stared up at Mitsuhiko, my breath shaking, horror pulsing in every vein.

He calls that ‘suicide’ like he wasn’t the one who ripped her face off.

He spread his arms lightly… and laughed.

His expression was strangely soft.

But very cold.

Almost affectionate.

“You DID kill her!” I gasped, voice cracking. “You… you really were the one who stole her face! You MONSTER!”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “I did.”

He lifted his chin, as though stating the weather.

“If I could have, I would have warned her… told her that failing to return within twenty-four hours would doom her to become a noh-face forever. But even a genius occasionally overlooks things.”

He sighed through his nose, annoyed by his own imperfection.

“If she had returned to me… I am confident I could have restored her.”

His gaze drifted away, uncaring.

“That is… assuming she still had her face.”

My fists clenched so hard the bones screamed.

“Some genius!” I spat. “THAT… THAT’S WHY SHE COMMITTED SUICIDE!”

He chuckled softly.

“In a manner of speaking,” he said. “She still lives.”

His smile sharpened. “Tell me, Susumu… do you truly believe she ever cared about you? She made her feelings abundantly clear. I questioned her after that little scene at the amusement park.”

His eyes glittered with cruel amusement.

“You were humiliated by her, weren’t you?”

I trembled, my throat tightening.

“Y-yeah,” I whispered. “She didn’t love me. So what? She was still my dear friend. Even if she never loved me back, THAT DOESN’T MATTER. Do you understand ANYTHING, you disgusting—!?”

My rage erupted.

I lunged before I even realized I’d moved.

Mitsuhiko shifted backward with shocking ease, lifted the chair, and swung it like a sledgehammer.

WHAM—!!

I flew across the floor, my skull rattling inside my helmet.

Pain spiked through my vision.

Through the ringing in my ears, I heard his voice… smooth as velvet, sharp as a knife.

“Do you truly think you matter?” he asked. “I have killed far more interesting people than you.”

He folded his hands behind his back.

“So… why bother to speak with you, I’m certain that you’re wondering. Why not simply kill you?”

His smile widened.

“Because I intend to kill you after I break you. Piece by piece. Thought by thought.”

I grit my teeth, hatred scorching through me like wildfire.

He leaned down, his face inches from mine.

“Did what I revealed start cracking your sanity?” he whispered. “Did you forget that I slept with her… numerous times? That she kissed me time and time after? That she chose me over you? She loved me. She NEVER had any regard for you.”

He chuckled.

“You were a tool. A background extra in her story.”

My breath hitched, humiliation stabbing deep.

“Why, you can’t even help your so-called friends. Did you ask about them?”

His eyes narrowed.

“You did not.”

My heart lurched.

“You’re garbage,” he finished coldly.

I roared and attacked him again.

He met my fury with one swift kick.

THUD—!!

I crumpled to the ground like a discarded doll.

“Those girls are my prisoners,” he continued, his voice dripping with bored superiority. “I will do what I wish with them.”

He unfurled the scroll in his hand with a flick of his wrist.

My heart stopped.

There… they were…

Natalia-sama.

Ume.

Akuchi.

Drawn in its pages.

Trapped.

“WHERE’S RUI?!” I screamed, scrambling up.

My fingers shot out toward the scroll…

They brushed its surface…

But nothing happened.

If Reiko could summon a Noh-Face…

If she could wield the scroll even briefly in desperation…

Then maybe… maybe… I could—

But the scroll refused to answer me.

“Oh, the small one?” Mitsuhiko said lightly. “Yes, she is captive as well.”

Rui—!!

“I imagine I’ll have far more fun with her,” he added, eyes gleaming with hunger. “But before we discuss that…”

His foot lashed out.

CRACK—!!

Air burst from my lungs as I hit the floor again.

He crouched beside me and reached for my head.

“No—DON’T—!”

I clutched my helmet, but he wrenched it free in one brutal motion.

Cold air hit my stolen face.

His eyes widened with triumph.

“To think that it was in YOUR possession,” he breathed. “I suspected as much… Your voice was too high pitched and faintly familiar although your personality hid it from me… speaking in ways that she never would… Now it’s confirmed.”

He laughed.

A deep, delighted, frightening sound.

“This is exactly what I need,” he murmured. “When she returns… I will offer her her face. And she will come back to me. She will remember who she belongs to. I will rebuild her mind… Although she will be more appreciative of what I can offer her.”

My heart twisted violently.

He leaned closer.

“Oh, I promised you I would break your mind…”

His fingers brushed my cheek—

The scroll flared—

“…and I keep my promises.”

Fire engulfed my whole body.

I screamed, convulsing as agony roared through every nerve, my mind threatening to tear apart at the seams.

He stood over me…

… unmoved.

Unbothered.

Watching with clinical satisfaction.

“Celebrate,” he said softly.

“And cherish the last miserable twenty-four hours of your humanity.”

His final kick sent me spiraling into the darkness of pain.