Darkness.
That was the first thing I felt — not the absence of light, but the weight of it. A darkness that pressed against my chest, cold and alive, whispering in a language I almost understood.
Then came the sound — faint, like a distant waterfall, or perhaps… the cries of the dead.
My name… what was my name?
A flicker. A memory.A woman in a crimson kimono turning toward me beneath the rain. Her eyes — soft, but filled with dread."Ren… promise me… you'll return."
Ren. Kagemura Ren.
The memory burned through the void, and the world began to take shape.
I was lying on a shallow river of mist. My body was weightless, yet every part of me ached. The air smelled of incense and decay. In the distance, mountains rose like black fangs, their peaks hidden behind swirling clouds of ash.
This was not the world of the living.
I pushed myself up, the water rippling with every move. My reflection stared back — pale skin, silver hair clinging to my face, eyes glowing faintly like dying embers. My once-red armor was cracked and blackened, the crest of my clan half-melted away.
"Yomi," I whispered. The land of the dead.
I had heard of it in prayers and warnings, but never like this. Not as myth — but as reality.
As I stood, the river began to churn. From its depths, pale arms reached out, clutching at my legs — faces emerging one by one, their mouths open in silent screams.
"Return… return…" they moaned.
Their touch was ice. I slashed instinctively, but my sword was gone. Only my empty scabbard remained, its cord frayed and torn.
"Looking for this?"
The voice drifted from behind me — calm, smooth, with a hint of mockery.
I turned. A woman stood on the bank, barefoot, her robes black as ink, embroidered with faint symbols that shimmered like dying stars. Her hair flowed past her waist, and in her pale hand, she held my blade — the Kagebane.
"You walk the river of judgment without your weapon, Ghost of the Kagemura," she said. "Tell me, do you seek redemption… or revenge?"
Her eyes were not human. They glowed with an inner flame — neither warmth nor cruelty, but inevitability.
"Who are you?" I asked, my voice hoarse.
"Names have little weight here. But once, the living called me Tsukiyo, keeper of the Yomi Gate."
She stepped closer, her bare feet leaving ripples on the water.
"Your soul was torn apart when you fell," she continued. "Your rage anchored you here, between life and death. You cannot move on — not yet."
My hand reached for the sword she held. "Then return it to me."
She tilted her head slightly. "You still believe vengeance is your path?"
Memories slammed into me — the burning village, the cries of my people, the face of the man who betrayed us. My brother's blade, crimson with my father's blood.
"I have no path," I said. "Only a promise."
For a moment, her expression softened — almost pity. Then she extended the sword toward me.
"Very well. But remember this, Ren Kagemura: every strike you make will weigh upon your soul. You may reclaim your vengeance… but never your peace."
Her hand opened. The Kagebane drifted toward me, suspended between worlds. When I grasped it, a surge of frostfire ran through my veins. The river stilled. The whispers ceased.
I looked down — and the water around my feet had turned black.
"The gate awaits," she said. "But once you cross, there is no return. You will walk as neither man nor ghost. You will become the shadow that remembers."
"Then let it be so."
She smiled faintly, as if she had heard those words a thousand times before.
The world trembled. From behind her, the fog split open — a massive Torii Gate carved from obsidian, its surface etched with ancient runes that pulsed with red light. Beyond it, I saw flashes of lightning and the echo of waves against a mortal shore.
Yomi's gate… and beyond it, the living world.
Tsukiyo raised her hand. "Then awaken, Ghost of Yomi. Fulfill your oath — and face the sins that bound you here."
Before I could speak, the gate exploded in light.
A scream tore through me — not pain, but something deeper. The severing of what I once was. My body dissolved into ash, then flame, then shadow.
And when the light faded —
I stood upon a cliff beneath a storm.
Rain lashed against my armor, lightning clawed the sky, and the scent of salt filled the air. Below, the ruins of a once-proud shrine lay in silence, the banners of the Kagemura Clan half-buried in mud.
I was home.
And yet… not.
I knelt beside the broken Torii gate, my hand trembling as I touched the ground. Cold. Real. Alive.
In the distance, a figure in a white hood stood among the graves. Her face was hidden, but I felt her gaze pierce through the storm.
"Who are you?" I called out.
The figure turned — and for an instant, I saw her eyes. The same as Tsukiyo's.
"Welcome back, Ghost," she whispered. "The world has forgotten you. But the dead… have not."
Thunder roared above.
And in that moment, I knew — the oath that bound me to Yomi was far from over.