"I don't want to alarm you, Akira," Ito said evenly, "but you have a Yokai inside you."
Akira froze for half a second—
Then he clawed at his chest.
"What?!" His fingers scraped skin in a blind panic. "How do I get it out?!"
Ito moved instantly, catching both wrists before Akira could tear himself bloody. "Aye—stop. I said don't panic."
Akira's breath came sharp and uneven.
"This," Ito continued, voice firm but controlled, "is exactly why I wanted to explain Tao before training you."
Akira stilled.
Ito released him slowly and exhaled through his nose, grounding himself.
"Let's start simple," he said. "Tao is life energy. It doesn't really have a ceiling. Everyone's Tao manifests differently—mine looks like a gate. Others look like weapons, elements, symbols." He paused. "That's… probably all you need to know for now."
Akira frowned, head tilting. "So… mine looks like a Yokai?"
Ito grimaced. "Uh—no. You're just… an anomaly."
Akira immediately went back to clawing at himself.
"Stop that," Ito snapped. "You're going to peel your own face off."
Akira froze again.
"What you have," Ito continued, "is a Yokai contract. That part isn't rare. Plenty of Taoists form contracts."
Akira swallowed. "Then what's wrong?"
"The problem," Ito said slowly, "is that you never noticed it."
Akira stared at him.
"That means one of two things," Ito went on. "Either your Tao pool is so absurdly large you couldn't feel the Yokai feeding on it… or the Yokai has been starving itself on purpose to keep you alive."
Silence stretched.
Akira blinked. "…So what do I do?"
Ito rubbed his chin. "Normally, you'd enter your true realm and talk to it. But that takes basic Tao control. Took me about a week to learn Tao." He waved a hand. "Not bragging."
His gaze flicked to Akira's hair—the sharp divide of black and white.
"…But if that's real," Ito muttered, "I should be able to force it."
Before Akira could respond, Ito vanished.
Pain exploded up Akira's spine as a shockwave of Tao detonated through his body.
His vision went white.
Akira lit up like a lantern.
"I knew it," Ito said, grinning. "You're a natural Tao—"
Akira collapsed.
"…ist," Ito finished flatly.
Akira opened his eyes.
He floated in a vast, silent void—no sky, no ground, just endless space. Before him stretched a living canvas of swirling color, layered and deep, like reality half-painted.
At its center stood a throne.
The moment Akira tried to move toward it, his body locked.
Something massive stepped into view beside him.
A towering, lion-like humanoid—golden mane streaked with silver flame, eyes calm, ancient, and sharp.
"Who are you?" Akira demanded. "Where am I?"
"I am Arthur," the Yokai said, voice deep and steady. "This is your mind. And that—" he inclined his head toward the throne "—is your true state."
Akira strained against the invisible hold. "Then why can't I reach it?"
"Most Taoists never do," Arthur replied. "They only draw fragments from their true state. It shapes their Tao. It is the birthplace of their power."
Akira sighed and crossed his arms as best he could. "Fine. Then can you at least stop stealing my Tao? It's annoying."
Arthur shook his head gently.
"If I stop," he said, "we both die."
Akira stiffened.
"We have been linked since your birth," Arthur continued. "You were born in a forest saturated with Yokai. When they closed in, I intervened. I rooted myself within you to keep you alive. That bond requires twenty percent of your Tao."
Images flickered through the void—
A crying infant.A clawed hand touching his forehead.Rain pouring as an old woman fled through the forest, clutching him to her chest.
Akira exhaled slowly. "…Alright."
He glanced back at the throne. "So… can I use your abilities?"
Arthur smiled faintly. "I'm afraid not. Your body is far too weak—for now."
Akira smirked despite himself. "Then I'll come back when it isn't."
Arthur's eyes softened.
"I'll be waiting," he said.