The forest was too quiet.
Yuta walked carefully, sword resting loosely in his hand, cursed energy pulsing faintly around him like a living heartbeat. The air smelled of moss, blood, and damp earth, but the silence… the silence weighed heavier than the stench.
No rustling. No snarls. No laughter of hungry demons.
Just quiet.
Rika floated faintly at his side, her form flickering between her sorrowful visage and her monstrous one. "Yuta… it feels wrong. Like the mountain itself is holding its breath."
Yuta frowned. "Yeah. After something like that last demon, maybe the others are keeping their distance."
He thought of the way that survivor demon had collapsed under Rika's claws. Its eyes hadn't been filled with rage or hunger in the end. Only fear.
Fear of her.
"Rika," Yuta said softly, "when they look at you, even demons… they feel it, don't they? That fear."
Her form dimmed slightly, and she lowered her gaze. "I don't want to scare you too…"
Yuta stopped walking and turned toward her. His violet eyes softened, his voice steady. "You don't scare me. You never have. You've always protected me—even when I didn't deserve it."
Rika's face flickered between sorrow and relief. "Then… I'll keep protecting you, forever."
Yuta smiled faintly, though a shadow lingered in his expression. "Yeah. But I don't want it to just be fear that keeps us alive. If I'm going to stay in this Corps… if I'm going to fight in this world… I need to understand it, not just overwhelm it."
He continued walking, the moon filtering weakly through the canopy. His thoughts churned with memories of Tokyo—the curses, his friends, Gojo-sensei. The rules there had been different. The dangers had been familiar, even if cruel. But here… the demons obeyed instincts he didn't yet grasp.
And still, the mountain remained silent.
---
Hours passed. The candidates were scattered across the forest, many likely already dead. Yuta hadn't seen another living person since the gates closed.
Finally, the silence broke.
A faint sob drifted through the trees.
Yuta froze. His grip tightened on his sword. "Rika. Did you hear that?"
"Yes. It's… human."
He moved quickly, following the sound until he reached a clearing where the moonlight bled through the branches. A boy—barely older than twelve—crouched against a tree, his blade discarded, tears streaking down his dirtied face. His uniform was torn, blood staining his arm.
Yuta approached slowly. "Hey. Are you hurt?"
The boy looked up, eyes wide with terror—not at Yuta, but at the forest behind him. "D-don't—don't stay here. It's still out there."
Yuta crouched down, his tone calm. "What is?"
The boy shuddered violently. "A demon. Huge. It—it killed everyone else. I ran. I shouldn't have… but I couldn't fight it. I—" His voice broke into sobs.
Yuta felt a pang in his chest. This boy reminded him of himself, years ago—weak, terrified, wishing someone else would carry the burden for him.
Before he could speak, the trees behind them groaned, branches snapping under a heavy weight.
Rika's form instantly flared, her monstrous body emerging at Yuta's side. The boy's eyes widened further, confusion and fear flashing across his face as the ground trembled.
From the treeline, a demon stepped forward. Its body was twisted, its mouth stretching unnaturally wide, lined with countless teeth. Its arms dragged along the dirt, clawed fingers twitching.
The boy whimpered, clutching his head. "No—no, it followed me!"
Yuta rose slowly, blade in hand, violet eyes cold. "Stay behind me."
The demon's gaze snapped to Yuta, then to Rika. For an instant, its entire body froze. Its pupils shrank. A low hiss escaped its throat—not of hunger, but of dread.
"W-what… what is that?"
Yuta lifted his blade. His voice was quiet, steady, but it carried through the clearing like a blade through silk.
"Your nightmare."
With a roar, Rika lunged.