There was a distant sound of a storm brewing. Light rain began to patter against the windows. Inside, soft footsteps echoed as Ran paced back and forth, his mind racing.
His countenance was reflective of his pacing. He felt a strong sense of anxiety and anguish.
He felt so helpless, the pain too overwhelming. Sorrow darkened his eyes with the turbulent storm outside resonating with his emotions.
He could not think much, seemingly unable to fathom what had become of his life. He was unable to accept the reality of the crisis, yet helpless in what he could do about it.
He was nothing but a child, and was aware of this himself.
What could he possibly do to save his father from hell? What can he do to right the wrong of forces beyond his control and understanding?
He was but a helpless child, his father the only family he had. And even that he'd lost.
What more could he do? What else?
Still, regardless of him feeling unimaginably helpless, Ran felt not even a measure of inclination to give up. His assurance that there was something—possibly should be something—he could do to fix this was what was keeping him strong.
Wind rushed in through the window, carrying in a cold that forced shivers down on him. Outside, in the chaotic sky, the winds' disturbing howls were resounding, an echo of his determination and his unwillingness to give up.
He was going to see this through, he assured himself, pacing continuously. He will have his father back. He was ready to do anything and everything to achieve this.
After his father was taken… he couldn't stop thinking about it.
How could he follow him? How could he find his way to hell and bring him back?
The rain picked up slightly, and the faint drip of water echoed as it leaked through the roof. Ran took a deep breath.
At first...he'd thought the answer was simple.
If he died... maybe he could go to Naraku.
The sound of a flick of a blade echoed in the room as he clenched his fist tightly around a weapon. The sound of his breathing became labored, tense. His hand shook around the hilt of the weapon, his fist turning white.
He whispered to himself, almost breathless. "If I just…"
The soft scrape of metal sang against skin, the knife held against his wrist. His breath quickened.
Ran's thoughts became full of conflict.
"But... if I die... a djinn will come for me too."
The faint clinking of chains echoed in his mind. A flashback to the moment the djinn took his father.
And again he could hear the echoing voice of the Djinn. "Your soul belongs to Naraku."
The chains rattled again, growing louder in his head. He dropped the knife with a sharp clatter on the ground, gasping for breath.
Now he felt frantic.
No! No, I can't… I can't let them take me too! He thought in panic.
This realization was an epiphany for him. Death would do him no good. He could not afford to have the Djinn come for him too. How was he going to save his father if he too became an unwilling resident of Naraku?
No, there had to be another way. There was surely another way. He just had to think.
In the moment after, there was silence, except for Ran's ragged breathing. The storm outside grew heavier. Thunder rumbled softly in the background.
Ran's thoughts, calmer now, took up the subject again.
"It wouldn't work. Dying wouldn't save me... it would only trap me." He said to himself again, convincing himself aloud that down that path was surely not the way to go about this.
He walked over to the window. The rain beat down harder against the glass. He took a deep breath.
His thoughts continued on the lane.
I need to go there… with my body. I need to be alive.
Looking out the window, his mind began to wonder, recollecting everything he knew, all he had ever heard in life.
He called his knowledge to him, and within he struck gold.
He remembered something, a unique memory. His heart was full of courage at this remembrance because now he was aware of the perfect place to begin this journey to hell.