The Heart of Zero

Riyugi looked up at Shingin, confusion in her eyes.

His face was like tightly stretched stone, etched with tension and anxiety. Each furrow of his brow seemed like a barrier against the world, locking away her questions. She wanted to ask—wanted to understand what had just happened, who that mysterious man was, and why—but the words died on her lips. Shingin's repressed expression swallowed them whole. At that moment, she knew: now was not the time to ask. He bore a burden she couldn't yet comprehend.

"Come with me," Shingin commanded, his voice low and hoarse, tinged with urgency. He suddenly seized Riyugi's hand, his grip so firm it startled her, and in the next instant, she was being pulled into a frantic sprint.

Their footsteps pounded against the cobblestone street in an urgent rhythm, as though destiny itself was striking its drum. Shingin's strides were swift as the wind, propelled by an invisible weight pressing upon him. Riyugi's heartbeat raced to keep up, her breath ragged from both running and her rising anxiety. Her throat burned like fire, every gasp of air harder to take.

Shingin's grip remained unyielding—his palm slick with sweat, yet as steady as iron. He said nothing, but the storm of unease within him was palpable, crashing silently between them. Riyugi clung to his hand, refusing to let go despite the strain. The world around her blurred into streaks of shadow and light as they flew past dimly lit streets. Streetlamps cast weak pools of light onto the slick pavement, their glimmers dancing like scattered stars, sharpening the oppressive tension of the night.

They darted through narrow alleyways, where the bricks still held onto the day's heat, though the creeping night air brought a chill that seemed to gnaw at their skin. It was as if the wind itself carried whispers of despair, sinking Shingin's heart deeper into an icy abyss.

His eyes remained locked on the path ahead, his mind haunted by fleeting images of his mother and that shadowy watcher. His chest tightened with every step, his breath coming fast and heavy. Time was slipping away. He had to make it—before it was too late.

Riyugi felt the slight tremor in his hand, a shiver that betrayed his efforts to appear strong. The streets blurred past them, their surroundings morphing into a vague, dark tapestry. Her face flushed red from exertion, her breaths quick and uneven. The air itself felt thin, as though every breath had to fight against the suffocating tension. Dizziness crept into her mind, but still, she held on.

Shingin's relentless pace never faltered, his expression rigid as though carved from stone. Each breath he took carried an unspoken weight, and the rushing wind whistling past them brought with it the foreboding chill of autumn. It felt like a harbinger—a silent warning that something was about to change forever. Even without words, Riyugi could feel his urgency, the invisible strings of fate pulling them forward.

Finally, they reached Shingin's home.

Shingin stopped abruptly, turning to face the half-open door of his house. What had once been a place of warmth and safety now loomed before him like a gaping maw of darkness. Shadows pooled within, whispering in a language of silence. The suffocating pressure in the air made Riyugi's breaths shallow and uneven. Shingin's hands curled into fists, an unnamed fear pressing against his chest.

With a sudden shove, he pushed the door open. The creaking hinges let out a low, drawn-out groan, and the darkness inside spilled out like a flood, eager to swallow them whole. The silence that followed was unnervingly loud, a heavy shroud smothering their senses. Shingin's heart pounded violently as his mother's face flashed in his mind—her smile, so kind and innocent—piercing him like a dagger.

"Mom!" Shingin's voice cut through the stillness, a desperate cry that echoed across the empty house and faded into nothingness. Riyugi flinched as the sound seemed to be swallowed by the darkness, leaving only an empty void.

No response.

"Mom!" Shingin's voice grew louder, hoarse with panic as he stepped deeper into the house. The silence mocked him, cold and unfeeling.

Riyugi stood close behind, her heart hammering in her chest. The oppressive darkness wasn't just visual; it pressed on her like a physical weight, squeezing the breath from her lungs. Her fingers trembled as she tried to steady herself, but the unease only grew. It felt as though something unseen was watching them.

Then, the silence broke.

"She can't answer you anymore…"

The voice was soft, young, yet chilling—dripping with a frigid malice that pierced to the bone. It floated from the darkness as though carried by the wind, yet it struck with the finality of a death knell.

Shingin froze. A cold sweat prickled across his skin as Riyugi gasped, whipping her head toward the source of the voice. Slowly, from the shadows of the room, a boy emerged.

He was small—frail, almost—but his presence was anything but weak. A cold, twisted smile curled his lips as he stepped into the faint light, his expression one of unnatural calm. His dark eyes reflected something far older than his years, something cruel and unfathomable.

One foot stepped into the light, breaking through the veil of shadow like a tear in the night itself. His voice was calm, steady—like the chill of midwinter winds. "This is your fate," he said simply, his words striking with the weight of a prophecy. "You're destined to lose everything you hold dear."

Each word drove into Shingin like a blade. His fists trembled, his breath sharp and ragged. Desperation twisted in his chest as he searched the boy's face for answers. Who was he? What did he mean? But the boy's chilling gaze held no mercy—only certainty.

Riyugi felt her heartbeat pound louder and louder in her ears, fear coiling tightly around her like a vice. The air itself felt hostile, suffocating, as though the house had turned against them. The boy didn't move, yet his presence alone filled every corner of the room, suffusing it with dread.

Shingin took a slow step forward, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. His voice was low, trembling with restrained anger. "Who are you? What did you do to my mother?!"

The boy's smile widened slightly, his expression infuriatingly calm. "You'll see soon enough."